Phoenix Rising
by O'Shea
Summary: Adventure, violence, sex, and alcohol. They were insatiable hungers for the teenage boys, and their reckless pursuit of each bonded the four of them like brothers. Now, as the spectre of Voldemort looms over Wizarding Britain, the Marauders find their halcyon days at an end. War is coming, the Order beckons, but amidst it all, Lily Evans might just finally say yes.
1. Immortality

A/N: This has been a long time coming. I was drawn into Harry Potter fanfiction by the questions left unanswered, and the biggest one of all is the story of James and Lily.

This story lives in the same universe, so to speak, as _Wrath of Merlin_ and _Auror Commander_. Neither is not a prerequisite, but I can certainly recommend them. If you're new to my work, I hope you take the time to give them a read too.

Onto James and Lily. Some of the best fanfics do a stellar job of exploring the relationship between two brilliant characters. I want to offer my own take. Those familiar with my writing know that I don't pull punches and I don't cater to the lowest common denominator. Expect a story as much about Voldemort's rise to power and the Order of the Phoenix as it is about James and Lily going on Hogsmeade dates.

 **PHOENIX RISING**

 _a James & Lily story_

—

 **I. Immortality**

"And it's a human need to be told stories.  
The more we're governed by idiots and have no control over our destinies,  
the more we need to tell stories to each other about who we are,  
why we are, where we come from, and what might be possible."

– Alan Rickman

* * *

 _JAMES POTTER is off to Hogwarts._

 _The Daily Prophet, Sept. 1st, 1971_

 _They are amongst the most esteemed pure-blood families in the world. With influence all over the wizarding world, the largest non-Goblin shareholders in Gringotts Bank, and the owners of the British and Irish Quidditch League team, the Montrose Magpies, and two stadiums, one can see why the Potters are wizarding royalty._

 _And that's only scratching the surface. No less than five Potters currently serve on the Wizengamot, and three top Ministry departments, (Magical Law and Enforcement, The Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Magical Trade) are practically run by the extended family. The Potters have also been responsible for the introduction of landmark legislation protecting the rights of Muggle-borns and several magical creatures in the last decade alone. In the last century, three Ministers for Magic have had direct ties to the Potters._

 _With ancestry dating back to the Peverells, the Potters are one of the oldest and most-respected names in Wizarding Britain. Feared by their opponents, revered by their friends, and famed for the parties and functions they host, the Potters bring an entire new meaning to the phrase 'Very Important Wizard.'_

 _And now attention turns to their youngest - only child and heir - James. Today he boards the Hogwarts Express to Scotland. With every single Potter name on record a member of Gryffindor, it isn't hard to guess where he'll be living for the next seven years. Of course, James has to live up to his family's challenging reputation. In the last two generations of former Hogwarts students, three Head Boys, two Head Girls, and no less than eleven prefects are connected to the Potter name._

 _Of course, one would be lucky to be James Potter. Despite the expectations of greatness heaped upon him, doors will open for the youngest Potter into the Ministry, Gringotts, and the international Quidditch scene, doors usually closed to most but the very best._

 _Only time will tell, but surely, James Potter is taking his first steps on the path to immortality._

He had read it countless times, of course, and could recite it word for word, but James Potter still enjoyed looking back at the article - one he'd neatly torn from the society pages - on occasion. It reminded him of who he was, of the expectations heaped upon him, and of the prominence his family possessed.

Prominence that could be dangerous.

Just last week, his uncle had been assaulted just off Diagon Alley. It wasn't serious, but an attack on one Potter was seen as an attack on all.

James folded up the article, fingers running along the neat creases in the paper. He carefully tucked it into the drawer by his bed, then paused. A small furrow appeared in his brow as he pulled out a slightly worn photo from the drawer.

He sat back on his bed and studied the picture. It was at a Gryffindor party. Himself, his best friend Sirius, Remus was talking animatedly to an obscured face in the background, Marlene, and a redhead girl, who, as if detecting his eyes on her, turned and glared at him, green eyes as hard as the emeralds to which he likened them.

 _Those eyes._

It was almost a pity that they belonged to Lily Evans, a girl who famously despised him, and turned down his advances at every turn, usually in a public nature.

He couldn't help that he thought she was stunningly beautiful, even in pyjamas with her hair tied back into an unruly knot...Merlin, her hair. It seemed fitting that a girl like Lily should have hair that reflected her fiery temperament, something James was all too familiar with.

She had more heart than some of the most devout Gryffindors, and a quiet dignity that exuded from her, in sharp contrast to some of the vapid blondes who flitted through James' social circle. On top of that was a wit and intellect that made Ravenclaws weep, and Professor Flitwick rue the day the Sorting Hat placed her in Gryffindor.

She was one hell of a witch.

But she wanted nothing to do with him. He couldn't see why not. He was _James Potter._

A thought came to him, and he cracked a rueful smirk. That was _exactly_ why she didn't want anything to do with him - _because_ he was James Potter.

"Prongs!" Sirius called from outside the dormitory.

"Yeah?" James answered.

"You in there with some bird?"

"Nah mate."

Sirius sauntered in, an amused expression formed on his face. "Shame, really."

James raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

Sirius stood on his bed and looked down at James, spreading his hands.

"Just concerned for you, Prongs."

James shot him a sceptical look as Sirius continued.

"I mean, when was the last time you had a good shag? A month? Two?"

James answered with his middle finger, which went ignored by Sirius

"Hell, James, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd forgotten how–"

"I have not–"

"Wormtail's probably getting more action than you!"

James gave a derisive snort.

"Is Peter getting some?"

Remus Lupin strode into the dormitory with a puzzled expression.

"Moony!" Sirius greeted. "Not only Peter, but I swear there must be third years who are having more–"

"Enough!" Remus said, raising a hand. "Merlin, Sirius, I don't need to hear any more."

"About Peter or the third years?" Sirius replied.

"I don't want to hear anything about either of them! Anyway, it's nearly dinner. We'd best be going," Remus suggested.

"Alright mate. Come along, Prongs!" Sirius jumped off his bed and the three headed down to dinner.

* * *

At the Gryffindor table, James did a quick scan of its occupants. No Lily, but Marlene McKinnon as there. He lead Sirius and James to where she was seated.

"Hey McKinnon," he greeted, sitting down.

"Oh, hey," she replied, looking up. Both Marley and James, along with Sirius, played on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team.

James grinned as the food appeared in front of them.

"Where's Evans?" he asked, loading up his plate.

Marlene shrugged. "Said she'd meet me here."

James nodded in acknowledgement.

"Planning on asking her to Hogsmeade?"

Sirius and Remus sniggered.

"Yeah, so they can take bets on whether I get shouted at, hexed, end up in the hospital wing…"

"Odds on her saying yes to him are at a million to one," Sirius interjected.

"Bit too high for me, Sirius."

"Yeah, but you could always start off small - like what hex Lily'll use to say no this time."

They were interrupted by a new voice at the table.

"Hey Marley!"

James' eyes flew to the newcomer, and met the same pair of emerald eyes he'd been thinking about not ten minutes ago.

"Oh...Potter."

His hand went immediately to his hair.

James grinned.

"Evans."

She rolled her eyes and sat down. "So what'll it be today, Potter? The world is ending and the only way to save it is to copulate?"

"No, but since when did we need a reason?" he quipped.

"Potter, I may have said this before, but as I worry about how the things I say filter through the sorry excuse you have for a brain, I'll say it again: No, and not ever."

"You worry about me? Evans, you do care!" he replied.

"Yes, and I'm just playing hard to get," she said, picking up her plate, "Sorry Marley, I'm going to eat with the Ravenclaws."

"Wait, I'll join you."

Both girls left the table, Marlene turning and shooting a look back at her Quidditch Captain. The three Gryffindor boys were silent for a moment, then:

"Fuck." Sirius swore.

"What?" asked James

"I remember where Peter is."

"Where is he?"

"He was sorting out that prank we where playing on the Ravenclaws…"

"…tonight," Remus finished for him.

James looked over at the Ravenclaw table, where Lily had just taken her seat.

"Oh fuck."

As if on cue, all the pumpkin juice pitchers on the Ravenclaw table _exploded_ , sending sticky liquid and glass flying in every direction.

As the hall collectively burst into noisy laughter and cheering, Lily stood and turned around, dripping wet with shards of glass through her hair, and glared daggers at James.

"POTTER!"

James cringed and swore again as she strode over.

"Detention or points off, Potter?"

"It wasn't even me who…" he began, his temper flaring, before giving a resigned sigh. He wasn't getting out of this one. "Fine, detention."

She nodded. "Tomorrow night. I'll let Filch know."

James groaned as she sauntered off. Sirius turned his head and watched her leave, eyes alight.

"Merlin, that girl has a nice arse…"

"Prat."

"She does though!"

"I've noticed."

"I've noticed you noticing."

"Why am I mates with you?"

"I'm loveable, cuddly, and I can play fetch," Sirius replied dryly.

James shot him a filthy look.

"Fuck you're an idiot, Sirius."

* * *

Where had it all gone wrong with Lily Evans?

That was easy.

 _Fifth year._

They'd never been on great terms - something brought about by the fact that they seemed to bring out the worst in each other - but James had never felt that their relationship was beyond repair.

Until the incident by the lake.

The memory flashed vividly through his mind now - Snape, an unforgivable slur, a pair of underpants, and the hatred in Lily's eyes.

He had hoped that the summer holidays would have helped lessen her displeasure, but now, halfway through sixth year, nothing had changed.

Like he didn't have enough on his plate already. The pre-NEWT classes he was taking were a serious step up from his OWLs - he'd already accepted that avoiding study altogether was out of the question this year - and combined with his Quidditch duties, James was finding he had an alarming lack of free time.

He gave a sigh of exasperation, settling back in his favourite armchair by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Still, things could be worse. He was not oblivious to the fact that he was a prince amongst the Hogwarts students - known by all, admired for his magical skill and prowess on the Quidditch pitch - there was even a begrudging respect from a number of the Slytherins.

Hell, even the armchair he was sitting in was testament to James' exalted position. He'd won it off a seventh year when he was only in his second, betting that he could supply more Butterbeer to a Gryffindor party than the senior student.

Already fast friends with his dorm mates, James had enlisted their help and together, they'd pulled off the feat. Sirius had suggested they call themselves 'the Marauders' - and so the legend was born.

James was pulled from his reminiscing by the piercing blue eyes of one Laura Hopworth. He met them and winked. She replied with a delicious smirk, before making her way over to him. She bent close to him and purred into his ear.

"I hear you've been naughty."

Inwardly, he laughed at the absurdity of her words. But to those in the room, his cool demeanour did not slip. He leaned close to her, her perfume flooding his senses.

"I should be punished, yeah?" he replied.

"Fourth floor?"

"Ten o'clock."

"See you later, James," she replied, louder, so that others could hear, before sauntering off.

James had no illusions about Laura Hopworth. She was vain and superficial, but no teenage boy was going to turn her down. If she was satisfied, she made sure people knew about it. And James had a reputation to uphold.

"Hell, Prongs, she's begging for it," Sirius remarked, sitting up from the couch next to him.

Remus made a small noise of distaste at Sirius' remark. Both had stayed quiet during the exchange with Laura.

"Remus, who's patrolling tonight?" James asked.

"Jones and Paisley."

James grinned. A couple of Galleons each, and both Prefects would keep their silence, and skip the supplies closet on the fourth floor.

Remus' appointment as a Prefect had not dampened the Marauders talent for breaking the rules. It had simply emboldened them. The Gryffindor boys had become brazen in their adventures, where before they had relied purely on stealth.

It was, James reflected, a simple matter of knowing who to pay off and how. Everyone had a price, and whether it was money, a favour, or alcohol, there was little he couldn't or wouldn't deliver.

* * *

Laura gave a soft moan as he worked his fingers inside her. The wetness between her legs was not unfamiliar territory to him. Athleticism on a broomstick was enough to get noticed and impress, but the real value to the James Potter legend came from what girls talked about in their bathrooms and dorms. Her mouth mashed against his as she worked her hand underneath his shirt, deftly undoing his belt then slipping her hand into his trousers.

Sometime later, James made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, protected by Cloak and Map. The meaningless shag had brightened his mood, and more than made up for the unpleasantness that would be his detention the next day. And perhaps Sirius would stop giving him grief about the Muggle girl he'd met over the summer.

Nevertheless, there was a hollow feeling he couldn't shake. There was an edge to his satisfaction that he couldn't place. But it didn't do well to dwell on something he couldn't name, and he dismissed it from his mind.

* * *

The next morning, James pinned up a Quidditch notice in the Common Room. The thought of going flying in the evening crossed his mind, before he remembered he had that bloody detention. Swearing under his breath, he resolved to book the pitch the following night.

"What's that on the noticeboard?"

The voice made him turn sharply. Of course, it was her.

Lily Evans stood in front of him, a hand resting casually on the satchel slung over her shoulder, well-worn from years of carrying an impressive stack of books wherever it went. Striking green eyes glared at him accusingly, and she looked like she'd been awake for hours already.

Suddenly self-conscious about the fact he'd rolled out of bed five minutes ago, he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to shape it into something that didn't look like Hagrid's beard.

"Alright, Evans?"

"The noticeboard, Potter," she replied pointedly.

"Quidditch. I need a new Chaser for the practice team. Surely that's not illegal?"

"If only."

He smirked.

"But you wouldn't be able to admire my flying nearly as often if it was."

"You're on the team? Why, I had no idea," she retorted, a sarcastic edge in her voice.

She was quick, he'd give her that.

James waved her retort away with another smirk, before crossing to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"See you later, Evans."

Lily watched the portrait swing shut, before double-checking the noticeboard. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she rarely took Potter at his word, and after _that_ notice he'd put up in fourth year, who could blame her for being vigilant?

She pushed the sour memory from her mind. A chance meeting with Potter would not ruin her day. Even if she had four classes with him, including Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts - two classes in which he naturally excelled and was insufferable about the fact.

Making her way down to breakfast, Lily took her usual spot at the Gryffindor table, greeting Marley.

"Good morning!"

Marlene groaned through her piece of toast, looking as dishevelled as Potter.

"Wha' time did you ge' up?" she asked through a mouthful of toast.

"Six."

"Six!"

"I wanted to get some extra reading done before Charms."

"You're mental," she replied between chews.

Lily opened her mouth to reply when a pitcher of Pumpkin Juice and a goblet appeared in mid-air in front of her. The pitcher poured half its contents into the goblet before vanishing, and then the goblet set itself down in front of the redhead.

"You know Lily, I think James is trying to get your attention," Marlene commented with a grin.

Lily gave her friend a flat look. "You don't say."

* * *

James finished the last of the silverware, and slid it neatly into place. A glance at his watch let him know that it was at least eleven, but he didn't mind, instead, he was simply thankful he'd finished before midnight.

"Always a pleasure, Argus," James smirked, ignoring the caretaker's retort as he left the trophy room. He'd heard it all before.

James slowly began the walk back to Gryffindor tower. He knew it was past curfew, but he wouldn't get in trouble for returning from a detention.

And it was peaceful in the empty hallways, with evenly spaced torches and shards of moonlight poking through the glass windows providing dim illumination.

He paused in front of a portrait of a long-dead family member. One of the first Potters to go to Hogwarts. The occupant of the portrait was sleeping, unaware of his descendant standing below him.

James stared at the portrait a moment longer, and then moved on as he heard two voices nearby. Probably Prefects.

He paused again at the end of a corridor, waiting for a particularly slow set of stairs to swing his way.

The voices had caught up.

"Stop!"

James sighed and turned around, his solitude broken.

Remus...and Evans. He smirked.

"Evening, Moony. Evans."

"Potter, do you know what curfew means?" Lily asked.

"Haven't a clue," he replied urbanely.

The redhead girl ignored his remark. "Why are you out?"

"Simply returning from your detention," he said, spreading his hands wide. "Filch had me on the other side of the school."

"Detention would've finished two hours ago," she said, suspicion in her face.

"You've never had a detention, have you, Evans?"

"No," she said, puzzled by his question.

"Then you've certainly never had a detention with Filch."

"And?"

"A good detention with Filch is one where he lets you go before midnight," Remus explained.

"But detention's only meant to last until half nine!"

"Filch can't read a clock," James replied dryly.

"Oh! Um, I'll talk to McGonagall about it," Lily offered.

"Don't bother, Evans. See you later, Moony."

The jet-black haired boy sauntered off.

Lily and Remus watched him disappear into the darkness.

"If he takes one for the house, Lily, at least book him in with Hagrid next time," advised Remus.

"Serves him right for pranking the Ravenclaws."

Remus sighed. "Lily, _I_ was in on the prank. So were Peter and Sirius. You can't put all your blame on James. And not one of us expected you to be sitting at the Ravenclaw table."

"Yeah, I guess." She couldn't argue with Remus' logic. Besides, James had served his due.

They continued walking, before she broke the silence.

"How'd you do it?"

Remus grinned.

"Trade secret."

"Aw, can't let me in on a Marauders scheme?" she teased.

"It was fairly basic. I'm sure you can guess."

"Blasting Charm?" Lily asked.

Remus made a face.

"No, too obvious. And too clumsy. You're better than that. A potion," she said, before amending - "a pressurised potion."

"Very good," Remus affirmed.

"But the real question is -" Lily continued.

"- how did we get in in the pumpkin juice?" Remus interjected.

"Yeah."

Remus gave a grin.

"Now _that_ is a secret."

* * *

"Joshua Fenwick wants Butterbeer and Firewhiskey for a Hufflepuff party," said Peter, reading a scrawled message from a tawny owl that had flown to their dormitory.

It was the following evening, and the four Marauders were relaxing in their dorm.

"We're low on Firewhiskey. Write back and tell him he'll have to stick with the rum," said Sirius.

"He won't want to pay the same," Peter replied.

"We'll give him an extra bottle. Tell him it's for being a loyal customer," James added, looking over from his bed, where he was lazily tossing a Snitch from one hand to the other.

"I don't see how he can be anything but loyal. We're the only ones trafficking in the school," said Remus.

"It's a gesture of good faith. We can always get extra over the weekend," James said. "Agreed?"

"Aye," Sirius replied.

"Agreed," Remus said.

Peter gave a nod, and after scribbling a reply, sent the owl on its way.

* * *

To think that their transformations had been so difficult only a year ago. Now, they transformed with ease.

It had become all too easy. The rat would scurry beneath the thrashing branches of the Whomping Willow, to freeze the enchanted tree, and James and Sirius - hidden from all by the Invisibility Cloak - would duck into the hidden tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, to where Albus Dumbledore hid one of his many secrets: a student gifted with a terrible power.

So they found themselves. The stag cantered through the Forbidden Forest, with the rat clinging to its back, as the great black dog roamed up ahead, accompanied by a werewolf scavenging through the undergrowth.

The brilliant light of the full moon filtered through the high canopy of trees as the peculiar group went about their nighttime adventure.

* * *

Two days had passed since the full moon. Remus had left the Hospital Wing that morning, and the Marauders had taken to the rooftop of Gryffindor Tower as the night grew dark.

Gentle Cushioning and Sticking Charms made the rooftop hospitable, and their black robes blended them into the slate tiles. The rooftop visits had become something of a custom following a full moon outing, and tonight was no different.

Between them they passed a cigar, each lost to their own contemplations. The night was dark, but not so much that the lake and the mountains around the castle did not form an impressive vista.

Adventure, violence, sex, and alcohol. They were insatiable hungers for the teenage boys, and bonded the four like brothers. Their reckless pursuit of each made them who they were: the Marauders.

But it was not lost upon each of them, as they sat there, that one day soon these nights would come to an end.

"I'll miss this, once we leave," said Sirius, breaking the silence after a fashion.

"We can always come back," Peter replied.

"We've got the rest of our lives mate," James added.

They lapsed into silence again, reassured by James' words.

"What do you think, Moony?" asked Sirius, after a puff on the cigar.

"I'll still expect you lot at the Shrieking Shack when I'm ninety," the werewolf offered with a smirk.

* * *

A/N: And that's the first chapter. Please take a moment to let me know what you think.


	2. We Wear Red (It Hides the Blood)

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter, I enjoy hearing your thoughts around where the story is going, and of course, it encourages me to write more. If you're new, welcome!

 **II. We Wear Red (It Hides the Blood)**

"I should be a postage stamp. That's the only way I'll ever get licked."

– Muhammad Ali

"Prongs, get down!"

James dropped to his knees as a vivd jet of purple light shot through the corridor, exploding on contact with the narrow passage. Sirius returned fire with a burst of hexes, each making a screeching noise as they flew overhead. Three Slytherin boys beat a hasty retreat as the throng of Gryffindor students accompanying the Marauders started drawing their wands.

"Better luck next time!" Sirius jeered after them.

"If that had hit you, you'd be in the hospital wing for a week," Remus said, inspecting the scorch mark left behind from the purple curse.

James grinned.

"Nothing quite like Quidditch season."

* * *

James lounged in his armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room, idly flicking through the pages of a book that had seen decidedly better days.

Every now and then, his eyes shifted from the pages to scan the room. Frank Longbottom sat with his attached-at-the-hip girlfriend, Alice, arguing over a chess board. Marley was chewing the end of her quill, a frown creasing her forehead as she contemplated an unfinished essay. James caught a flash of red hair, and sat up.

"Evening, Evans."

Lily ignored him as she walked past.

"Evans!"

Letting out an audible sigh, Lily turned and faced him with a scowl.

"What is it?"

James closed his book.

"Hogsmeade trip after the game this weekend?"

"Not a chance."

"Pity. You don't know what you're passing up."

"They say ignorance is bliss."

He grinned.

"You break my heart, Evans."

"Yes, I'm sure that's the part of your anatomy that's disappointed."

"Not at all," he replied easily, his eyes roving over her attire. "One glimpse of you in that tight little skirt and I'm set for days."

" _Goodbye_ , Potter."

* * *

"I wish full moon was tonight," said Sirius.

"Merlin, I know I don't." Lupin replied.

"Well at least it's something to do."

"Yes, I mean, turning into a werewolf. Great fun. Lots of laughs to be had," Remus replied dryly.

"Then suggest something else then," said Sirius.

"Hexed Snape lately?" he replied.

"Only three times in the last week. I swear, one day, I'll drown the git in a puddle of his own oil."

"Gents," James greeted, entering the dorm.

Sirius and Remus gave a nod in reply as James fell back on his bed.

"Where's Wormtail?" James asked.

"In the library," Remus supplied.

"Doing what?"

"Reading, I presume."

James sat up, an incredulous expression on his features.

"Wormtail can read?"

"And write too, if you can believe. We're very proud," Remus said dryly.

"Anyone hungry?" Sirius asked.

"Nah. Don't feel like eating," James replied.

The three young men lapsed into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the rustle of a magazine, and the scratching of Remus' quill on his parchment. Then:

"Evans said no again."

Sirius and Remus let out a collective groan of disgust, and James hastily dodged the pillow that was thrown in his direction.

"Who the fuck cares?" Sirius asked.

"Lily might say yes to a date with you if you showed a bit of maturity around her," Remus remarked.

"Fuck, Remus, you sound like a right twat," Sirius replied derisively. "Don't ever change, Prongs, there's a good lad."

"I'm Quidditch Captain, how much more mature do I need to be?"

"Well, it's not just that," Remus replied, pulling a rude gesture in Sirius' direction. "She might appreciate a sincere–"

"That's bollocks," Sirius interrupted. "Yes, Evans is fit. But she doesn't like you. Plenty of other girls like you though. They were all over you at Beauxbatons, remember. And French birds are notoriously difficult to impress. So it's not you, it's her."

"In a twisted Padfoot kind of way, that actually makes some sense," said Remus begrudgingly.

"Hmm? I was thinking about Beauxbatons," James reminisced.

"I was thinking about Mademoiselle Belgarde," Sirius replied. "How on earth did you end up with her, Remus? Lucky git."

"Maybe werewolves are her type."

"What was it McGonagall said? I'd rather be forced to endure you three on this trip than leave you all behind in Scotland doing Merlin-knows-what to the castle," Sirius recalled.

"She's a good bird, McGonagall is."

* * *

The rest of the week passed without injury, as something of an uneasy truce between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students had been agreed upon following the incident in the corridor.

"Have you seen my spare gloves?" James asked irritably, surveying the cluttered dormitory he shared with the other Marauders. "Thomson can't find his, the useless prick, so I said he could borrow mine."

"Nope," said Sirius, not looking up from his magazine.

"Can't say I have," Peter replied.

James made an exasperated noise and started rummaging through his trunk.

"The Map isn't working properly," Peter reported, peering closely at what appeared to be a worn piece of parchment.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, it's doing the thing again," Peter said, tapping it with his wand. The parchment gave no response, and the boy made a dissatisfied sound.

"I told you it was fucked the other day," Sirius remarked, lounging on his four-poster bed.

"Bugger off, nothing's wrong with my Charms work," said James, throwing a dirty pair of socks across the room.

"Evans makes you look like shite," Sirius retorted.

"Evans makes all of us look like shite in Charms," James replied, looking up from the pile of clothing he had unceremoniously dumped on the floor. "Give it here, Wormtail."

Remus entered the dormitory as Peter handed the Map over.

"How were rounds?"

"Shite," Remus replied, disgruntled.

"Who were you with?"

"Eloise Duffy."

"The one from Hufflepuff with the tits?"

"She's female, Sirius," James said from across the room, Map in one hand and wand in the other. "They all have tits."

"But hers are–"

"Yes, her," Remus interjected. "She could bloody talk underwater. Didn't get a word in edgeways all evening."

"Wormtail, wanna take a quick walk? I think I've got it working again," James interrupted, giving the Map a couple of prods with his wand.

The boy nodded, and a moment later, a small rat scurried across the room and out the door.

"Bloody handy, that is," James remarked.

"He's going to get eaten by Alice's cat one of these days, I know it," Sirius added.

* * *

Cupping her mug of tea with in her hand, Lily clambered through the portrait hole. It was late - past late - but the House Elves, fond of the Muggleborn witch, always welcomed her into the school kitchens.

She went to take a seat, but found another person quietly walking in front of the hearth. Only the dim glow of the fireplace reflected his features, but there was no mistaking his mop of hair.

Potter.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Pacing, Evans."

"It's three in the morning," she replied, putting her mug down and nestling herself into a comfortable armchair.

"And?"

"Isn't a bit late?"

"I can't sleep," he said, pausing to take a seat himself.

"Oh?"

"Game tomorrow. Can never sleep before a match," he explained, and there was a strange sort of vulnerability in his admission.

"Wouldn't that make you a bit useless on the pitch?"

"You'd think so, but Sirius brews this potion that gives you a real kick up the–"

"Right."

"What are you doing up?" he asked, curiousity forming on his features.

"Reading for Charms," she said, pointing at a small stack of books sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

"The test isn't until Tuesday week."

"Yes, but we've that other assignment due on Monday."

"I should probably start that," he replied, making a face.

"You should," Lily said, opening one of the books and leafing through it to find her page.

"Well, night," James said, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Goodnight."

He walked away, and Lily went back to her book and her mug of tea.

"Oh, one more thing Evans," James added, pausing on the stairs. "Will you–"

"No," she replied flatly, not looking up from her book.

He smirked audibly.

"Didn't think so."

* * *

Professor Hawthorne, the flying instructor, beckoned the two Captains to the middle of the pitch.

"I want a clean game. Honourable play from both sides."

Fat chance of that, James thought. Honourable play meant shit. Winning was all that mattered.

He shook hands with the Hufflepuff captain, Baxley, and retreated to his end of the pitch to confer with his team in the huddle.

"Alright, he began. "Fuck them up. I want Ravenclaw and Slytherin shitting themselves at the mere thought of having to play us this term. Understand?"

Gryffindor's Quidditch Team was characterised by two traits: a near-sadistic aptitude for violence, and an all-consuming desire to humiliate their opponents.

It wasn't pretty, but Quidditch wasn't a pretty sport.

James hawked and spat, then raised his gloved fist skywards.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" chorused the team.

Hawthorne's whistle blew, and both sides settled into formation as the roar of the crowd grew to its loudest yet.

Moments later, the Quaffle was tossed skyward, and the game begun in earnest.

James snatched the ball, and accelerated sharply towards the Hufflepuff end, letting a smirk cross his features as he saw the Hufflepuff Chasers struggling to match his speed. He was astride a custom-built Nimbus Racing Broom that he'd modified himself. Sure, it wasn't _technically_ regulation, but any idiot who used a match-legal broom was just asking to have his arse handed to him.

And James Potter was not in the business of losing.

A well-aimed Bludger shot towards him, but he dodged it and continued onwards. Hufflepuff's second Beater flew at him in an attempt to block, but Marlene McKinnon, flying in support, pushed him off course.

James slowed as he reached the area, feinted right, then calmly put the Quaffle through the centre hoop as the Keeper took the bait.

James grinned as the Gryffindor stand went wild.

It was going to be a long day for Hufflepuff House.

* * *

Pain blossomed across James' face as the Bludger hit the side of his head with a sickening crack. He spat a dislodged tooth out of his mouth, ignoring the splatter of blood that ran down his robes.

Gryffindors wore red for a reason.

Jerking the handle of his room down, he dropped sharply to avoid a tackle, then swerved to avoid the second Bludger.

His Beaters were sodding useless today.

The third Chaser came up to block him, but James shoved an elbow in his chest as he flew into the area, and the Hufflepuff player fell back. Firing the Quaffle into the right hoop was a formality.

A roar of approval came from the Gryffindor stands as James signalled for a timeout.

"I need some fucking cover!" he shouted at his Beaters, before tapping his wand to his jaw, wincing in pain.

"Looks bad, Cap," Sirius said.

"Funny that," he replied, giving Sirius a dark look. The Bludger that had hit him was Sirius' responsibility on the play.

James looked to his Seeker, a fifth-year named Alistair Thomson.

"You've had two hours," he berated. "Catch the fucking Snitch next time you see it. We've only got another twenty minutes before it'll slow down, and I don't want to make it any easier for them."

The shrill whistle blew once again, and the two sides resumed play.

* * *

" _And McKinnon intercepts with a brilliant piece of work, draws in the Chaser - offloads to Potter, who's through!"_

The last Hufflepuff Chaser made to intercept him with a diving tackle, and James was forced to swerve away, and then rapidly drop as a Bludger screamed overhead.

" _Putting up a bit of fight now. Hufflepuff aren't making this one easy!"_

The Chaser shoved his shoulder into James' side, reaching for the Quaffle. James veered upwards, then launched a swift kick, his heel colliding with the Chaser's nose. A fountain of blood burst from the wound, and the boy careened to the ground.

A cry of anger had risen from the Hufflepuff stands, but Hawthorne hadn't seen the foul. James rushed to the hoops, and put the Quaffle through once again.

" _Potter scores again, but he's lucky to escape a foul on the play. Tensions are running high on the pitch – oh! That's going to leave a mark!"_

James had taken a Bludger directly to the chest, losing his broom close to the ground.

A loud roar of approval came from the Hufflepuff and Slytherin stands, as many amongst the Gryffindor spectators gasped out in dismay.

" _Potter is tasting dirt, but he's getting up. Those ribs can't be looking too good, that was one hell of a hit from Hufflepuff's Jacoby, who has been excellent all day."_

James hawked and spat, then reached out a hand to summon his broom, a few feet away. Mounting it, he launched back into the air.

" _Potter is back up! And he's not happy! Black is getting an earful from the looks of things. And now, Hufflepuff score! Is this the momentum change they've desperately needed?"_

* * *

Quaffle under his arm, James screamed towards the Hufflepuff hoops, hugging his body flat to his Nimbus as he outpaced the opposition Chasers. On his left, Jacoby was closing in to intercept, with Sirius in pursuit of the Hufflepuff Beater.

James decelerated, passing the Quaffle to Marley as he did, then veered left to meet Jacoby with a shoulder charge, pushing him into the path of Sirius, who elbowed him low in the gut. Together, the two Marauders sandwiched the Hufflepuff Beater in, then, with a sudden twist, sent him spinning out of control into a collision course with one of the spectator towers.

" _Hawthorne calls what has got to be the most shockingly blatant foul we've seen today on Potter and Black, but that's not going to help–"_

The hapless boy hit the stands with a _crunch_ that sounded across the pitch, and fell to the ground. James grinned with grim satisfaction, and circled back towards the Gryffindor end.

" _Jacoby is getting medical attention, now, and Potter sweeps past the Slytherin stand, pausing to deliver a gesture that will no doubt land him in detention once again…wait, I think - yes, he's seen it! Thomson is diving, diving, he's seen the Snitch and this time, it won't escape, surely. He's closing in, Hufflepuff nowhere in sight, and…he does it! GRYFFINDOR WIN!"_

"About fucking time," James muttered under his breath, as he raised a clenched fist into the air, pulling his broom around to perform a victory lap with his bloody, but unbeaten team.

* * *

James made his way to Gryffindor Tower, nursing a slightly-swollen jaw - the result of Pomfrey replacing several teeth yet again. He rounded the corner to find Lily conversing with the Fat Lady, her ever-present satchel of books slung over her shoulder.

"'cuse me, Evans."

"Are you going the party?"

"Course," he said.

"How much potion have you had?" she said, a small crease between her eyes.

"Honestly, I snuck some extra when Pomfrey wasn't looking."

"And you're going to drink on painkillers," she surmised, her tone taking on an edge of disapproval.

"I put two hundred points past Hufflepuff today, Evans. I hurt like a motherfucker. And besides, that's half the fun," he said, then turned to the Fat Lady. " _Erstwhile_."

"That's not good for you, Potter," she said, clambering through the portrait hole after him.

"Neither are you, but it hasn't stopped me trying."

Her retort was interrupted by a lion's earsplitting roar.

"He's back!" hollered Sirius. "Nineteen goals, six fouls, bruised ribs, and several missing teeth, _your fucking Captain_ , James Potter!"

The crowd of Gryffindor students roared in approval.

James raised a hand in acknowledgement and grinned through his bruised features.

"Ta, all."

Sirius thrust a bottle of Firewhiskey into his hand, and James took a long draught, then raised the bottle in a toast.

"To beating the shite out of Hufflepuff. It never gets old. Drink up!"

* * *

A week had passed since the Quidditch game, and the missing teeth, cracked ribs, and assorted bruises had become a past memory. Ravenclaw would play Slytherin in the next game, and James was glad to not be looking over his shoulder as he made his way down to dinner. At the Gryffindor table, he took a seat next to Sirius.

"Where are the others?"

"Moony's seeing Pomfrey. Fuck knows what Wormtail's up to," Sirius replied.

James nodded and began to pull food onto his plate.

"That's strange," Marley remarked suddenly, looking up at the ceiling.

"Hmm?" said Lily, looking up from her book.

"An owl, at dinner," Marlene pointed.

"That's a Ministry owl," Sirius said, as the bird circled overhead, then landed on the table in front of James. The young man took the proffered envelope, then rummaged in his pocket for a treat, which he fed to the grateful bird.

"Your dad?" Sirius questioned him.

"Yeah," James replied, inspecting the envelope. He slid it inside his robes, and then suddenly stood and left the table, quickly making his way out of the Hall.

Lily and Marlene exchanged a look.

"What's that all about?" Marley asked Sirius.

"Potter business," Sirius replied cryptically, then went back to his meal.

* * *

After dinner, Lily settled in to the plush armchair by the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. By rights it was Potter's, but she wasn't above taking advantage of the fact he would never tell her to get off it. Besides, the chair was far more comfortable than it had any right to be.

With an idle flick of her wand, she turned on the wireless sitting on the coffee table next to her.

"… _Auror Commander gave reassurances that Voldemort's organisation of Death Eaters did not amount to a tangible threat against ordinary magical folk. Speaking at a press conference today, the Commander fielded questions about Voldemort's political movement."_

" _That's all they are. A political organisation. I've met with several wizards in their leadership, and I assure you that their sole aim is the just and equal representation of pureblood wizards and witches in magical society."_

" _That's all well and good, Commander, but how do you reconcile that belief with the recent–"_

"Turn it off. Or put on something else," interrupted James irritably, suddenly standing beside her.

"What's wrong with the news?" Lily replied, scowling.

"Nothing's wrong with the news. But you won't find it listening to that," he said derisively, nodding in the direction of the wireless.

"Bugger off, Potter, I'll listen to it if I like," she replied, making her point by raising the volume.

James bit back a retort, muttering something under his breath, then stalked away.

* * *

"And then he said that I wouldn't get the news by listening to the bloody WWN," Lily regaled to Remus, as the two made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"James is sceptical of a lot of the media. Reckons they don't give the whole story."

"Well, he's not a journalist."

"Well I suppose not, but–"

"Why is he so arrogant?" asked Lily suddenly.

"He's not that arrogant, not really."

"What? Come on, Remus, you can't deny it."

"Prongs will never admit it, but what you call arrogance is a bit of a facade. It's what he wants the world to see, not what he really wants you to see."

"So you're saying he's constantly putting on an act."

"No, not that extreme," he replied. "Most people just don't necessarily see what he really thinks or feels. He doesn't want to show weakness. If you met his father, you'd understand where it comes from," Remus said. "Come to think of it, his mother is the same."

"So it's just a Potter thing?" Lily asked, raising an eyebrow.

Remus was quiet for a moment. Then, he spoke again.

"Do you know what the Sacred Twenty-Eight are?"

"The remaining true pureblood families of Magical Britain," Lily answered.

"Not bad for a Muggleborn," praised Remus. "Did you know it used to be called the Sacred Twenty-Nine?"

"James is a pure-blood in the sense that his direct lineage can be traced back to the Peverells, but his extended family are no longer completely pureblood," he added. "He has a Muggleborn aunt and two halfblood cousins. That reflects on his Noble House. Now, I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with that, because there's not. But to a lot of the other Noble Houses, the Potters losing their 'sacred' status was seen as a betrayal. And such things are not easily forgotten."

"What does this have to do with the fact that Potter is an unbearable arse?"

"Imagine that you're perceived as a family of traitors to pureblood-kind, and you're actively, publicly denouncing Voldemort and his followers, many of whom have ties to those same purebloods."

"They're a target," Lily guessed.

"Exactly. Although, with the possible exception of Dumbledore or the Minister for Magic, they're not just a target, they're _the_ target."

Remus' tone grew ominous.

"My point is that their arrogance hides their fear, Lily. For so long, the Potters have been untouchable. Sure. they weren't part of the club anymore, but they were too rich for most people to care…trust me, you _want_ to be in business with the Potters. But they're not untouchable anymore. Not with Voldemort around. James' uncle was attacked off Diagon Alley only a few weeks ago. It's only a matter of time before something really bad happens to the family."

They both stopped as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"The Potters know that there's a war coming, Lily. And they know not all of them will survive it."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!


	3. Tennyson

…and we're back. I want to apologise for the lengthy wait between updates, but long-time followers of my stories will know that a delay always seems to happen at some point. In this case, life just got in the way. I've said it before - and I'll say it again - I'd rather take longer to finish a good chapter than rush to finish a bad one.

The next couple of chapters should helpfully come a lot sooner! Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think.

* * *

III. Tennyson

"Oh fuck!"

"Mr Potter, I won't have that language in my classroom," admonished Professor Slughorn. "Ten points–"

"Professor, I think it's about to blow," James interrupted, with a panicked edge in his voice. A porous vapour was rising from the cauldron that he and Sirius were ministering.

Slughorn bustled over, wand drawn, and attempted to vanish the potion, to no avail. He leaned in, giving the cauldron a sniff, and his face went white.

"Everybody out, now!"

Lily had taken two steps when she was crash-tackled to the floor. A second later, the cauldron exploded with a earsplitting _boom_.

As the smoke began to clear, she shook her head, ears still ringing. She blinked and everything swam into vision.

"You can get off me, Potter."

"Er, of course. Sorry," he stated quietly, standing to dust off his robes.

She winced and massaged her shoulder.

"Fuck, did I do that?" James exclaimed.

She scowled at him.

"No, it was the other idiot who landed on top of me."

He smirked, drawing his wand, which Lily eyed with a fair amount of trepidation.

"I can fix it. Happens in Qudditch all the time."

"Exploding potions?"

"No, shoulder injuries. You've got a right wit when you get hurt, you know that?"

"It's a coping mechanism for dealing with you."

"Understandable," he replied, taking her arm. "Here."

"Oh. Okay."

He pressed his wand to her shoulder, and moments later, the sharp pain subsided.

"Better?"

"Yes actually."

"Probably a good idea to visit Pomfrey in case I cocked it up."

"You said you could fix it!"

"I did!"

"How do you know that?"

He clapped her on the shoulder.

"Did that hurt?"

"Well, no, not really."

"Then you're fine, Evans."

"Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, Potter."

* * *

After lunch, James slid into his usual seat in the Defence classroom on the fourth floor. He fished a ream of parchment out of his satchel, and began doodling on it with a quill.

"Prongs," Sirius greeted, sliding into the seat next to him as the class began to fill with their classmates.

James lifted his head in acknowledgement, then did a quick scribble on his parchment, before showing it to Sirius.

Sirius smirked.

"Is that a self-portrait?" he retorted.

"Nah, mines–"

James stopped abruptly as a woman entered the room.

"Who's the new bird?" Sirius muttered.

James shrugged.

"No idea."

"Good afternoon, class," the woman greeted.

There was a smattering of 'good afternoons' in reply.

"Let's try that again, can we?"

"One of _those_ , evidently," Sirius remarked quietly, as the group of students attempted to muster a greater deal of enthusiasm.

"My name is Professor Whitcliffe, and I will be taking you for Defence Against the Dark Arts for the remainder of the school year."

"Miss, what happened to Professor McKenna?" James asked.

"Your name?"

"James."

"James…" The woman consulted a piece of parchment. "Potter?"

"Yeah."

"Professor McKenna has been forced to take a leave of absence, the circumstances of which I am not aware. If you are particularly curious you can take it up with the Headmaster, but I imagine it is a private matter."

He nodded.

"Right!" Whitcliffe said, clapping her hands together. "Let's begin. My understanding is that you were working on advanced shield charms. Quills and parchment out, please."

She clicked her fingers and the chalk rose up from its perch on the blackboard and started to write out notes.

"Advanced shield charms are diverse in their variety, as many as specifically designed to ward off particular attacks. The careful witch or wizard will have a sizeable number of these spells in their inventory, for as one of the fundamentals of Defence Against the Dark Arts teaches, one must be prepared for any eventuality."

James glanced at his watch, then shared a look with Sirius, who had a pained expression on his features. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

"Thoughts, Moony?"

"She could be worse."

"She's basically reciting the textbook."

"Well yes, but if she's going to read from a book, it might as well be the right one."

James shot him a flat look.

"I _like_ Defence, Remus. It's usually fun. That was decidedly _un-fun_."

"It was a theory day. Maybe she'll do practical tomorrow," the werewolf replied.

James made a sceptical noise, but let the matter drop as Remus gave the Fat Lady the password - _"Indiana"_ \- and the two boys clambered into the Common Room.

* * *

"We need more Firewhiskey," Peter announced, shaking the last drops of a bottle into his open mouth.

"Are we out?" Sirius asked.

"Yep."

"Bugger."

"Can it wait until tomorrow? I've got the pitch booked tonight."

Sirius made a face.

"You'll live."

"What about the thing with the girls' dormitory?"

"Oh, fuck. Remus, is the potion ready?"

"Sure, if you want to spare the world of your offspring," Remus answered, not looking up from the book he was reading on his bed.

James grimaced.

"That's a no on the potion."

Sirius shrugged.

"We can do both tomorrow. I'll send an owl to the Hogs' Head."

* * *

After training, James sat back in his chair by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room with a relieved sigh. He'd pushed himself to take risks in training, and had taken three Bludger hits for his efforts. He picked up a well-worn book with several dog-eared pages, and had begun to flick through it, when he was interrupted by Lily.

"What's with that book, Potter?"

James looked up, faintly surprised.

"It's a Muggle book," he replied, handing it to her.

Lily took the book, turning it over in her hands, and running a finger along the title.

"Tennyson," she remarked with a sceptical look. "You read poetry?"

"I read _Tennyson_ ," James replied.

"You're having a laugh."

"There has fallen a splendid tear, from the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate," James recited.

Lily's eyes widened, surprised. Then:

"You're taking the absolute piss."

He shrugged.

"Works wonders with birds, Evans."

"I'll bet it does," she retorted. "When they realise what a horrible mistake they've made, at least they've heard some nice poetry to make up for it."

He smirked.

"It's such a convenient way to be done with them."

"You're disgusting," she replied.

"You love it."

"No, I don't."

"I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."

"Shut up, Potter."

* * *

Remus handed James a goblet filled with a blue-tinted liquid.

"Are you ready?"

"If this fucks up my balls, Remus, I'm going to murder you," James replied, eyeing up the potion.

"Well, technically your balls are going to be fine. Rather, it's the sperm that–"

"The less I know about this, the better," James interjected.

"Bottoms up, Prongs, there's a good lad," said Sirius, doing a miserable job at hiding the gleeful smirk plastered across his features.

James scowled at him.

"This is the last time we ever play a hand with your dodgy cards."

"You lost the bet fair and square. Don't blame faulty equipment," Sirius replied. "Speaking of…"

James downed the contents of the goblet in one, then shuddered.

"That's bloody foul."

"Is is just me, or does your voice seem a bit higher?" Peter remarked.

James turned his scowl to the fourth Marauder.

"Prat."

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen of Gryffindor Tower! Gather round!" Sirius said loudly as he clambered onto a table in the middle of the Common Room, before turning to two giggling second-years with a glare.

"Oi! Shut it! In the thousand year history of this school, no man has ever made his way into the girl's dormitories," he continued. "That is...until tonight!"

A mix of jeers and laughter broke out.

Sirius held up a hand to quiet the room.

"My friends….although we've been defeated before, this time, we've found a way."

Lily exchanged a look with Marley.

"They've got to be kidding."

"I think they're serious this time," Marley replied.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," Sirius announced, "Please give a warm welcome to your very own Quidditch Captain, the only twat stupid enough to go through with this...James Potter!"

Fist in the air, James made his way into the Common Room to another round of laughter and jeering.

"Tonight," Sirius shouted above the crowd, "Mr Potter will go where no man has ever gone before."

James made his way through the throng of students until he was standing before the steps leading to the girls' dormitory.

"Five galleons says he lands flat on his arse!" someone shouted out.

James closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He had argued the toss with Sirius when he'd lost the bet, but in truth, he didn't care. If he failed, he'd be the fool, and not the first time. But if he succeeded? He'd be a _legend_.

The crowd had drawn quiet.

He placed a foot on the stairs.

And then another.

And another.

The Common Room burst into noisy cheers and a smattering of applause as James made his way up the girls' staircase and out of sight.

"Fetch a pair of Evans' knickers!" Sirius shouted.

"It's about as close to them as you're ever going to get!" Marlene retorted, to laughter.

* * *

"I have to say, I'm actually impressed."

James looked up from the textbook he was idly leafing through. As the novelty of the Marauder's latest prank had worn off, so too had the Common Room quietened down as students returned to their work.

"Evans, I'm flattered."

"How'd you do it?" she asked, curiosity coming over her features.

"Well, let's just say that I wasn't strictly male," James replied.

"You didn't…" Lily said, making a vague gesture.

"Transfigure myself? Merlin no!" James said, horrified.

"How'd you do it then?"

"With a potion, but I'm not saying any more."

"Trade secret?" she asked.

"Trade secret."

Lily shrugged and made to walk away.

"Oh, Evans?"

She turned back, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Speaking of being impressed, I must say - black lace. You're a classy girl."

Her face took on a dangerous scowl.

"Tell me you didn't go anywhere near my underwear."

He grinned.

"Course not, but anytime you want to change that, name the time and place."

"Prat."

* * *

"Hurry up!" Sirius said. "We're nearly there."

"I'm getting there…fuck!"

"What?" Sirius asked.

"This was a lot easier when we were twelve," Remus grumbled, as he emerged from a narrow bend in the tunnel.

"Shut up!" James said suddenly in a loud whisper.

"What?"

"We're not alone," James murmured under his breath.

He put a finger to his lips, motioning for silence, and pointed to the wooden trapdoor a few feet ahead with his other hand.

Behind him, Sirius and Peter drew their wands.

"Who is it?" Remus asked.

"I don't know. Listen," James whispered.

"…sources inside the school have informed me that the Hogsmeade visit will be next Saturday," said the first voice.

"Who's the target?" said a second voice.

"The Bones girl. Here."

"Understood."

"This seems rash," a third voice said, hesitant.

"A message must be sent. You heard Malfoy's orders," the second voice replied.

"But like this?"

"What are they doing there?" Sirius whispered.

"Who are they?" Peter asked.

"…and then the Aurors will be on us like flies."

"You worry too much," spoke a fourth voice with a foreign accent.

"You haven't met Mad-Eye Moody, have you Alexei?" spoke the third man bitterly.

"He's not invincible," said the first voice.

"No, but I still wake up in a cold sweat thinking about what he did to McNab. Merlin's beard, if you had seen–" the third voice argued.

"Enough about Moody. He's no match for the Dark Lord."

"Like the Dark Lord is going to risk his cover against the Aurors. If this turns into a shitstorm, we're on our own," the third voice said cynically.

"Do not speak ill of him, Morin. The Dark Lord guides our hand."

"He must bide his time. Our work in the Wizengamot depends on it."

There was a murmur of agreement, then a pause.

"Gentlemen, I don't think we're alone," spoke the second voice. There was a sudden edge in his voice.

"What do you mean?" said the fourth man, Alexei.

"Didn't you scan?" asked the first voice.

"Of course I did!" the third voice, Morin, exclaimed.

"Do it again!"

"Fine."

From the tunnel, the Marauders heard Morin draw his wand and begin an incantation.

James turned to the others, his eyes wide.

His voice came in a panicked whisper.

" _Run."_

* * *

"What the fuck was that?" Sirius exclaimed, turning on the group once they were in the safety of their dorm.

"Who were they?" Peter asked.

"Voldemort's people," James replied grimly.

There was a heavy pause in the room.

"We can't tell Dumbledore," Peter said, breaking the silence.

"Why not?" Remus asked.

"His first question will be why we were in the tunnels in the first place," Sirius replied.

"And we're on a thin fucking rope already," said Peter.

"McGonagall will have your balls in a jar," Remus added.

"Just where she's always wanted them, let's be honest," Sirius said.

"We have to let somebody know," said Remus, standing up and pacing nervously.

"My dad," James said.

"He'll go spare," Sirius replied.

"Not if I'm giving him information he won't," James said. "He won't be able to help himself."

"Can you reach him tonight?" Remus asked.

"Yeah," James replied, and dug in his robes for a small velvet pouch. "I picked this up from one of Dad's Trainees. It's a special kind of Floo powder they use in the field. We just need a fireplace."

"Common Room?" Peter suggested.

"Too risky. What about the one in the Transfiguration classroom on third floor?" Sirius said.

"I'd rather not have Filch breathing down my neck," James replied.

"There's one in the Prefect's room," Remus volunteered. "We don't use it for anything but meetings so I doubt anyone's in there."

"Alright," said James. "Grab the Map. Let's go."

* * *

Remus drew his wand and pointed it at the empty fireplace, which burst into flames.

James drew a small handful of powder from the velvet pouch, and flung it into the fire.

"Nathaniel Potter."

The fire roared a bright blue, and after a moment, James' father - a face framed by thin spectacles and silver-grey hair - appeared in the flames.

"James. Boys. This is unexpected."

"Hi Dad."

"Somehow I doubt this is a social call," Nathaniel answered. "What's the matter?"

"Well…" James began.

"Out with it, James."

"Right. We were in the Honeydukes cellar - well, underneath it, and–"

"In the tunnel that leads to Hogwarts?" Nathaniel interjected.

"Er, yeah," James replied sheepishly.

"Do I want to know why you were in the tunnel?"

"Probably not."

"Right. Go on," Nathaniel said.

"We overheard voices - I think it was Voldemort's people," James said.

"How many?"

"At least four."

"How did you know they were his people?" Nathaniel queried.

"I'm guessing, but they referred to someone they called the 'Dark Lord,' and–"

"They spoke about the Bones girl too," Sirius interjected.

"Okay. Any names?"

"Malfoy. Morin. And an Alex-y? The second was definitely foreign," James volunteered.

"They said that they had to send a message. They're planning something. And they were talking about the next Hogsmeade weekend," Remus added.

Nathaniel paused.

"How many girls from the Bones family are at Hogwarts?"

"Emily from Ravenclaw, in fourth year," Remus supplied.

"Natalie, in our year," James said.

"And Chloe. She's seventh year," Sirius volunteered.

"Three, then," Nathaniel replied, his expression thoughful. "Thank you."

"What are you going to do?"

"What we do best," Nathaniel Potter replied grimly, and his voice carried the weight of the Auror Office behind it.

"And us?"

"Stay out of trouble," Nathaniel said wryly.

"Can't make any promises," James shot back.

Nathaniel met his gaze.

"I mean it. There are dangerous forces at work, James."

* * *

Nathaniel Potter extinguished the fireplace in his well-adorned office with a flick of his wand, and then took a seat at his desk.

Andrew Morin was known to the Auror Office, as was - he was guessing - Sergei Alexei. Morin was a smuggler, and Alexei had contacts throughout the European black markets. But neither were assassins.

No, far more likely that the plot was a kidnapping, with little doubt as to the target and location. Hogsmeade would be crowded with students, and making away with one of the Bones daughters would be simple work for someone with experience. It would be nightfall before the alarm would be raised, and by that time, the victim could be halfway across the North Sea.

Nathaniel scribbled a few short sentences on a piece of parchment, and then fished a small silver mirror out of his desk drawer. He tapped the mirror with his wand, and it glowed for a moment.

"Sir?" a voice came from the mirror.

"Set up a meeting with Edgar Bones and the Auror Commander. It's urgent. Let them know I'll be in London shortly."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Andrew Morin stood before three masked men, decidedly nervous. It wasn't often that he was summoned before Death Eaters, and it usually wasn't a pleasant experience.

"We understand there's been a setback with the Bones mission," spoke one.

Morin swallowed, and nodded deferentially.

"We may have been overheard by students in the tunnel leading to the school. Clearly some have discovered its existence."

"Did you give chase?" asked the second Death Eater.

"Couldn't risk it. Besides, we don't know if they heard anything anyway," Morin answered.

"Your carelessness could set us back months! You know as well as I do that the Dark Lord does not tolerate failure, Morin."

"I know. Forgive me. Am I to proceed as planned?" he asked.

"Yes. It's too late now. We need this if I'm to build leverage in the Ministry," said the third Death Eater.

"But we don't know if the Aurors have been alerted," Morin replied.

"You know the stakes, Morin. If you succeed, you will be rewarded. And I will talk to our supporters within the school. We may learn something," the second masked man replied.

"And if the Aurors show up?" Morin questioned.

The three Death Eaters shared a grim laugh.

"For your sake, Morin, I hope they don't."


	4. Rough Landing, Lily

Apologies again for the long wait between chapter updates. I'm hoping to improve the writing time per chapter, but unfortunately life has that funny habit of getting in the way. Anyway, enjoy - and please review!

 **IV. Rough Landing, Lily**

"In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing."

– Teddy Roosevelt

The Auror looked at the man with an expression of something akin to disgust and pity.

"You're an unfortunate fuck, aren't you?"

Andrew Morin had not had a good day.

"I see Potter got to your kneecaps," the Auror added.

Morin made a muffled noise through the piece of fabric that was stuffed into his mouth.

"I imagine you're in a fair bit of pain. Should've come quietly," the Auror admonished. "You know Morin, Amelia Bones doesn't take kindly to people who try to kidnap her family members. She jumped at the chance to sign this here piece of paper. Any idea what it is?"

Morin blinked, trying to focus.

"It's a Red Letter. It's the reason why half your legs recently departed the rest of you."

The Auror opened a small briefcase with his wand, and retrieved a small vial of clear liquid.

"Of course, thanks to this Letter, we're under no legal obligation to re-attach them to you. But we're a lenient bunch when we need to be. So here's our proposal. We feed you a couple of drops of this here Veritaserum, you tell us what we need to know, and then we'll send you on down to St Mungos to get your gams all fixed up."

Morin nodded vigourously.

"Thought so."

From behind a pane of two-way glass, Nathaniel Potter watched grimly as his colleague began the interrogation.

* * *

"What on earth are you doing up here?" Lily exclaimed.

"What does it look like?" James replied with a gleeful expression.

"Magic carpets are _illegal_ , Potter."

"Yeah, like that's stopped us before," Sirius scoffed.

"Fancy a go, Evans? It's bloody brilliant," James said, gesturing towards the carpet in question.

"I wouldn't be caught dead on one."

"See, that's the problem, Evans. You're hardly living! Have some fun," he implored.

"I'm having plenty of fun with both feet on the ground."

He looked at her quizzically.

"Evans, are you afraid of heights?"

"Somewhat," she admitted begrudgingly.

"Suit yourself. It's a pity though," he replied with a shrug, before turning towards the carpet.

"If you put one foot on that thing, I'm going straight to McGonagall."

He paused and sighed.

"You make life bloody difficult, Evans."

And with that, he grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the carpet, which immediately shot into the air. Lily shrieked in shock.

"POTTER!"

"What?"

"If I survive this I'm going to murder you."

"Threaten me later, I'm trying to steer this thing," he replied, hoping to pass off sounding more confident than he felt.

"You have no idea what you're doing!"

"Sirius said it was easy!" James said, as the carpet tilted precariously.

"And you believed him? Christ, Potter, you–"

"Well, in hindsight, I'll admit–" James said, stopping halfway through his own sentence and gritting his teeth as he pulled the carpet level.

"Better?"

"No."

"Really?" James replied, gesturing towards the view.

The lights of the castle glistened like specks of gold in the night sky. Before them, the expanse of the Forbidden Forest rushed out the surrounding mountains. The Black Lake shone in the moonlight, with lazy ripples pushing out to the shore.

"Okay, slightly."

"See, they're not that dangerous."

"We're flying through the air on a temperamental piece of fabric, Potter."

"Well, when you put it like that, I–"

"You don't know how to land one of these by any chance, do you?" she interjected.

"Y'know, I probably should've asked Sirius about that too," James mused.

"HOW DO YOU PROPOSE WE GET OFF THIS THING?" Lily yelled.

"I DON'T KNOW EVANS, BUT IF YOU WOULD BLOODY SHUT UP FOR JUST FIVE SECONDS I WOULD BE ABLE TO FIGURE THAT OUT!"

"Fine!"

James grabbed the corner of the carpet, and it banked right in a wide arc.

"What are you doing?"

"Aiming for the lake."

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"No, I'm James."

"Potter, I swear to–"

"Would you rather I aimed for the Whomping Willow?" he interrupted.

She paused.

"Well, no."

"Remus said carpets don't like water. So it should level out over the lake. And then we'll jump."

"Or we'll crash face first into the lake on a blanket."

"You're ever the optimist."

"I have _literally no reason_ to be optimistic about anything right now!"

"Trust me, Evans, I've got this."

"I don't trust you, Potter. That's the problem!"

"Put your arms around me."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to fall off and die. It would weigh awfully on my conscience."

"Fine," she replied, wrapping her arms around his chest.

"Okay. I'm going to aim for the water. Just don't let go," he said with steely determination.

James rested his palms flat against the carpet in front of him.

"Are you ready?" he asked

"Yeah."

He pushed with his hands, and the carpet plummeted downwards, picking up speed as it dived towards the lake.

"Slow it down!" Lily exclaimed.

"I can't!" James yelled.

The carpet shot through the air, and then, only a few feet from the choppy waters of the lake, it levelled out, streaking over the water.

"Now!" James shouted.

The two Gryffindors leapt from the flying carpet, crashing into the icy waters of the Black Lake.

"Evans?! Evans?" James yelled, floundering as he surfaced, his head bobbing above the water. There was no sign of the red-headed witch.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, frantically trying to spot her in the moonlight.

Suddenly, Lily surfaced, gasping for air, with her wand in hand. Pointing it at the shore, she murmured an incantation, and as if being hauled in by an invisible fishing line, she was pulled towards land. James swum a few feet, then pulled out his wand and mimicked Lily's spell. Once he reached the shallows, James stood up and waded out of the water to the shore, where Lily stood drying her clothes.

"Thoughts?" he asked.

Scowling, Lily muttered a hex that left him sprawled on the sand.

"Oof," James winced, sitting up as Lily tucked her wand away. "Okay, room for improvement."

"Never again, Potter," she replied, and began walking to the castle. With a smirk, James stood and followed her. They reached the Entrance Hall to find the Marauders waiting by an alcove.

"How was the swim?" Sirius asked.

Her hair still dripping wet, Lily shot him a look that spoke pure murder, and walked past him.

James clapped his mate on the shoulder.

"Just lovely."

* * *

Whitcliffe snapped her fingers, and a piece of chalk rose through the air and began scribbling notes on the blackboard. She turned and addressed her class of Sixth Year students.

"Copy these spells and their complications word-for-word. That should take us through to the end of class."

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr Lupin?"

"Are we going to actually do these spells?"

"In the classroom?"

"Yeah."

"If you must know, there is a practical class planned for the end of each month, but a theoretical grounding is more–"

"So we're only doing spells once a month?" James interjected.

"Mr Potter, don't interrupt me when I'm speaking or I'll deduct points."

"Professor, with all the danger that's out there, why aren't–"

"There's no danger, Potter. I think you're being–"

"Well, what about Voldemort?"

"You don't have to worry about Voldemort."

"That's a load of bollocks."

"Voldemort doesn't represent a tangible threat," Whitcliffe replied primly. "The Auror Commander himself said–"

"The Auror Commander is a fucking idiot then, and if the Minister had any sense, he would have fired him years ago!" James yelled, rising from his seat.

"That's a detention, Potter!"

"You'll have to wait in line, Professor. I'm booked up this week," James scowled.

"And forty points from Gryffindor! Sit down!"

"Tough luck, Sirius, I think I just broke your points record," James replied glibly, still glaring at Whitcliffe.

"Just shut up, Potter!" Lily exclaimed.

For a moment, James looked as if he'd been blindsided, but then his eyes hardened.

"You want the truth?" he asked, his voice icy cold. "Muggles are disappearing across the country. Last week, a family of four in Birmingham. The week before, two men in Swansea. Just yesterday, a Muggle woman in London was found dead in her apartment."

Whitcliffe's eyes widened.

"Potter, I–"

"The Ministry doesn't want you to know this, but she was in a relationship with an MLE official who had written a submission denouncing Voldemort's political operation and his influence within the Ministry," James continued, ignoring the Professor. "That's not a fucking coincidence. The Muggles don't know how to explain the disappearances and random killings. But I do. It's him. It's Voldemort's people. So when some Ministry hack walks in here and tells us that everything's just rosy, forgive me for chewing their bullshit before I swallow it!"

"Get out of this class!" Whitcliffe shrilled.

"Gladly."

James stormed out of the room, not bothering to collect his textbook as he left.

* * *

News of James' outburst spread like wildfire, and by lunchtime, it was all anyone was talking about.

"How did he find out about the Muggle disappearances?" Lily questioned the Marauders at the Gryffindor table. James was conspicuously absent - probably disappeared to walk it off, Sirius had suggested.

"I haven't heard in in the _Prophet_ ," said Marlene.

"Of course he knows, his Dad's an Auror," Peter scoffed.

"And not just a regular Auror," Sirius added. "He's a decorated field agent. Personally hunted down several of Grindelwald's allies after the Muggle World War. Purged two sects of Necromancers. He's seen some shit. And they say he's one of Dumbledore's closest confidants."

"His Dad takes mail clippings - crime stories, obituaries, and the like - out of Muggle newspapers and Owls them to James," Remus explained. "He never writes or says anything on them, because that would be a breach of security. But the implication is there, and James is smart enough to do his own digging. He didn't get many, at first, but now he seems to get a new letter every week."

"But it's just James' word," Marlene replied, sceptical.

"Yeah well, we trust him," Sirius said.

"Remus?"

"I'm inclined to agree with James," the werewolf replied simply.

* * *

"What was it like?" Marlene asked.

"Awful," Lily replied flatly.

"But seriously - a magic carpet? How did they get their hands on one?" Marlene replied, flicking through her textbook.

"Smuggled or stole it from somewhere I imagine. I'm afraid to ask."

Lily checked her wristwatch, then looked towards the library entrance.

"He's late."

"Who?"

"Nicholas. We're meant to be going over the Charms tutorials."

"Oh, Nick Wright. The cute one from Slytherin," Marlene replied, putting on a scandalised air. "Lily Evans, fraternising with the enemy."

"I am not _fraternising_. He is cute though," Lily conceded.

"Recently single too, I understand."

"He's seventh-year."

"Perfect. He's good looking, good at Charms, and not the same year as Snivellus."

"Oh, don't call him that."

Marelene shrugged.

"Suit yourself. I think he's a greasy git."

"You spend too much time with Potter," Lily replied.

"You well, Evans?"

A lanky boy with a hint of stubble, wearing impeccably fitted robes interrupted them.

"Hey!" Lily replied, smiling, then gestured at Marlene. "Nick, Marley, Marley, Nick."

Nicholas flashed a toothy smile.

"You play for Gryffindor yeah?"

"Third year on the team."

"So it's your fault we keep losing."

"James Potter helps," Marlene said, shooting a sly glance at Lily, who rolled her eyes.

"I s'pose he does," Nicholas replied, missing the exchange between the two girls. "Look, can I borrow Lily?"

Marlene shrugged, gathering up her books and satchel.

"I'll leave you to it."

Nicholas took her seat and fished out a ream of parchment from his bag.

"So, Flitwick asked me after class yesterday if we could run an extra session for the fourth years showing some promise. Introduce them to a few OWLs concepts and the like. See how they handle it. What do you think?"

"Yeah, good idea. We could fit them in after the third years on a Tuesday?"

"Perfect. I was just thinking a half hour session to start with."

"Agreed. We can always make it longer later on."

Nicholas split the ream of parchment in two, and handed half of it to Lily.

"Those are the lesson plans for first and second years. Flitwick said he's written in what we need to cover for the remedial group."

Both students began reading through their respective stacks of parchment, silent save for the occasional scratching of quill on parchment as they took notes.

"Speaking of Potter, what do you make of his outburst?" Nicholas asked. "You're in that class, yeah?"

Lily looked up from her parchment, taken back by his sudden question.

"Oh, yeah. Surprised, I guess."

"What did he say?"

"Went on about a bunch of Muggle deaths and said Voldemort's people were responsible for them."

"That's ridiculous."

"Whitcliffe agreed. Kicked him out of the class."

"Permanently?"

"Just for the lesson."

"What do you think? About what he said about Voldemort?"

"I mean, political killings seem a bit much. I don't like the rhetoric that's going around, but I'm Muggleborn, so–"

"Oh, I daresay you've got some magical blood in you somewhere along the line," Nicholas replied, flashing a toothy smile. "You're too talented not to."

Lily gave a non-committal shrug.

"How about you?" Lily asked. Nicholas smirked.

"My father always told me to steer clear of politics. We're in the quill business, see. And no matter what your views are, you need something to write them down with. In fact," he added, motioning for her quill, "yours is probably one of ours."

He turned it over in his hands, and pointed to a marking just above the nib.

"Here, look," he said.

Lily peered at the marking. A tiny 'W' was inscribed in the quill.

"See?" he said. "It's a Series 4."

She shot him a bemused look.

"Sorry. It's easy to talk shop. It's all my father does."

"You're the 'Wright' in _Wright Quills_ ," Lily clicked. "How have I only just figured this out?"

Nicholas winced.

"It hasn't come up, I suppose. And you can blame my 18th century relatives for that particular abomination of the English language."

Lily laughed.

"Hey, what are you doing this weekend?" Nicholas asked.

"Watching the Quidditch."

"Of course, stupid question."

"Well, I go for Marley's sake really," she replied.

"Want some company?" he asked.

Lily smiled.

"That'd be nice."

* * *

James hadn't shown for any of his classes that afternoon, nor did he make Quidditich practice that evening.

"Any idea where he is?" Marlene asked as the Gryffindor players headed down to the pitch.

"Haven't a clue. It's bloody unusual for him to miss practice," Sirius said, a frown appearing across his features.

It was late when he finally did reappear, slipping through the portrait hole into the Common Room with an expression that suggested that he didn't want to talk about it.

Sirius motioned him over to where he, Remus, and Peter sat playing Exploding Snap.

"Where have you been?" Remus asked in a quiet tone.

"Went for a walk in the Forest," James replied. "Ran across Hagrid, who said that McGonagall was looking for me."

"Minevra doesn't like to be kept waiting - ah, fuck!" Sirius exclaimed, his attention suddenly fixated on putting out the fire in his eyebrows as his cards ignited.

"What did you tell McGonagall?" Peter asked, as he dealt a new hand.

"I told her that points shouldn't be deducted for honesty."

"You got away with it?" Remus asked.

"Not exactly. Detention for two weeks. And I'm to write a personal apology to Whitcliffe for disrupting the class."

Sirius shrugged.

"Could be worse."

"Dumbledore wants to see me too."

"Any idea why?"

"Not a clue."

Sirius glanced over to where Lily sat. She met his gaze and stood up, approaching the group of boys.

"Here comes trouble," he muttered.

"You're back," Lily said curtly.

"Yeah," James replied.

"What'd McGonagall say?"

"Something about ensuring Ravenclaw don't get their hands on the Quidditch Cup."

"Hilarious. Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid about all this Voldemort business?"

James raised his eyebrows.

"I don't like what his people are saying, but killing Muggles?" Lily added.

"I call it how I see it, Evans."

'What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not," he said, smirking.

"You can't just start a shouting match in class."

"Would you prefer to be lied to?" he pressed.

"Sorry, Potter, I have a hard time believing that you're the champion of the Muggleborns when you're quite willing to hex them in the corridors," Lily replied.

"That's hardly fair," Sirius protested. "James hexes _everyone_ in the corridors."

James shrugged. "Don't listen then. But Evans?"

"What?"

"Cancel your _Prophet_ subscription. You're too smart to be wilfully ignorant and pay for it too."

* * *

The spiral staircase ground to a halt, and James tentatively knocked on the door of Dumbledore's office. It swung open of its own accord.

"Come in, Mr Potter."

James entered to see Dumbledore sitting at his desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment. A stack of books leaned precariously on the edge of the desk. Dumbledore continued writing as James approached, and gestured to a chair in front of his desk.

"Mr Potter, take a seat."

James did so, and Dumbledore paused, placing his quill in an inkwell.

"I've spoken to Professors McGonagall and Whitcliffe regarding your rather…vocal defence of your opinion in class today."

"Yes sir," James replied, his eyes downcast.

"It seems, James, that I receive much of the same information as you do."

James looked up at him, surprised.

"Notice however, that I don't choose to shout it from the Great Hall at dinner, or write frantic letters to the parents. There is a time and a place for such discussions, but not here. This is a place for learning, not for fear and rumours. You are right to be concerned about the goings on in our world. But leave the detective work to the Aurors."

James nodded.

"You're young, and youth and impetuousness often fit hand in glove. Be mindful of your influence, James. What you say and do might have consequences you could never expect."

"Yes Professor."

"Professor Whitcliffe wanted me to forbid you from playing your match against Ravenclaw on Saturday."

"Sir, I–"

"I politely informed her that student discipline was at the discretion of the Heads of Houses, and that Professor McGonagall had dealt to the matter in due fashion."

"Thank you, Professor," James replied, relieved.

"Besides, and I tell you this in the strictest of confidence, it would be a shame not to see you fly this weekend," Dumbledore added, rummaging in a desk drawer before fishing out a jar filled to the brim with sweets.

"Gumdrop?"

* * *

Thanks for reading! P.S. Reviews are the best.


	5. The Teen Witch Snogging Scale

A/N: Well, it's ready, so I might as well publish it! This early update is my way of thanking you all for bearing with my erratic update schedule. Things should settle down into a more regular timeframe, and I'll try to note if that might change or I think the next chapter will take longer to get out. Again, your reviews mean the world to me - it's great to hear what you think about each chapter, where you think the story is going, and really importantly - if you think I'm doing a good job with the depiction of these great characters. So, please review!

 **V. The Teen Witch Snogging Scale**

"The true competitors though, are the ones who always play to win."

– Tom Brady

"How is he?" James queried irritably. His third Chaser, fourth-year Lucy Doherty, had just told him that his Seeker - Alistair Thomson - had run afoul of a Ravenclaw ambush.

"He'll be fine. The hex only glanced him," she replied.

"Good. Can he practice tomorrow night?"

"Unless he gets himself cursed again I don't see why not."

James grunted in approval.

"Oh, Doherty?" James

"Yeah?"

"Don't go–"

"Anywhere alone. I know the drill Captain."

He nodded. There was no love lost between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw when it came to Quidditch. Any chance of an uneasy truce the likes of which James had negotiated with Hufflepuff before their last match was slim, especially after Sirius' involvement in the break up between the Ravenclaw Captain and his girlfriend.

If only Sirius had just kept his pants on.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me!" James exclaimed. "No fucking way!"

"Shut up Prongs, what's the bloody problem?"

"This," he replied, thrusting a magazine at Sirius, "is my problem!"

Sirius took the magazine and glanced over the cover.

" _Teen Witch_? Really, Prongs?"

"Page 53," growled James.

Sirius flipped through the magazine to the mentioned page, and suddenly choked on his toast.

Peter peered over his shoulder, and began to laugh uproariously.

Recovering from his sudden bout with his breakfast, Sirius smirked delightedly as he cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

" _The most eligible young bachelors in Wizarding Britain…James Potter. Where to begin with the one and only heir to the Potter name and fortune? Handsome, windswept, and altogether excellent, James is well-versed in high society."_

" _Altogether excellent?"_ Remus sniggered. Other Gryffindor students had noticed the commotion, and had begun to gather as Sirius continued to read.

" _A welcome and regular guest at the many functions and parties of the great houses, James always dresses to impress-"_

Sirius held up the magazine to show a picture of James in dress robes at a Ministry event. Remus let out a wolf-whistle as the group of students laughed.

James put his head in his hands.

" _\- and ladies, impress is what he does! Just look at him…"_

" _Also worthy of note is his ability on the Quidditch Pitch. Currently Captain of the esteemed Gryffindor House Team, James' name has been linked with no less than three Quidditch sides, including the Montrose Magpies, a team in fact owned by his family."_

Remus snatched the magazine from Sirius and began to read the next excerpt.

" _So, how to get your hands on James Potter? One anonymous source suggests that James has a thing for girls with red hair, but don't let this put you off. Teen Witch suggests a sexy, confident air will grab his attention, whilst ready banter and a sharp wit will snare him in conversation. James is known for making jokes, so don't forget to laugh! Finally, we're told he also has quite the weakness for Honeydukes Finest Chocolate Fudge."_

" _Top tip: A knowledge of Quidditch can only help, but remember, he might not want to talk about it all evening."_

" _We rate James a nine on the official Teen Witch Snogging Scale, but wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be a perfect ten."_

"How do they even know I like fudge?" James asked plaintively.

* * *

"Make way! Make way! Highly eligible wizard coming through!" Sirius yelled as the Marauders made their way to Transfiguration.

"Would you cut this shite already?" James scowled, pushing past a throng of second and third years.

"Make way! Recently the subject of his very own _Teen Witch_ article, make way for Gryffindor Captain, James Potter!" Peter added.

James shot him a disgusted glare.

"I swear to Merlin, if people don't stop bringing this up…"

"Watch out girls, James does get moody sometimes," quipped Remus.

"But the key to overcoming his ill-tempered ways is a good blow–" announced Peter loudly.

"Fuck off!" James replied, stalking off down the corridor.

* * *

"What's his problem?" Lily asked Remus as James left the Transfiguration classroom in a huff.

"You didn't see at breakfast?" Remus replied.

"See what?"

"We're just, so proud," interjected Sirius.

"James was named as one of our most eligible bachelors by _Teen Witch_ magazine," Remus answered.

"So _proud_ ," Sirius added.

Lily let out a hearty laugh.

"I bet he's livid," she said.

"Incensed," Remus agreed. "It's such a silly thing for him to be upset over, and he knows it is, which is making him all the more pissed off."

"What did it say? Not that I read that drivel, I mean–"

"I literally saw you borrow one from Marley after dinner last week," Peter said flatly.

"I was just flicking through it!"

"Uh huh."

* * *

"Another ten minutes of practice, and that'll be all for today," Professor Flitwick announced. "Observe what your partner is doing, and offer constructive feedback as appropriate."

"That was an altogether excellent bit of spell work, Padfoot."

"You're too kind, Moony. Might I compliment you on how windswept you look this morning?"

James turned around and made a variety of obscene gestures in the direction of his sniggering mates.

"Ignore them," Peter advised. "Give the incantation a few more goes."

"Thanks," James replied dryly. Raising his wand, he moved it in a swift motion, and the pitcher of pumpkin juice sitting on his desk rose into the air, and poured its contents into a glass.

"Thoughts?"

"Nine, maybe even a perfect ten," Peter deadpanned.

"Fuck you, Wormtail."

* * *

Lily clambered through the Portrait Hole and immediately starting laughing.

"This is too much."

The Marauders had eased up on James as the day had worn on, but his respite had only been temporary. In the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room sat an entire Honeydukes carton of their Finest Chocolate Fudge. Remus and Peter were busy affixing a bright red ribbon to the display.

"Has he seen this?" she asked.

"Nah, he's at Quidditch with Sirius," Peter said. "Should be back soon though."

"How'd you get your hands on all this?" Lily said, gesturing towards the massive carton. "It's taller than I am!"

"Can't tell you," Remus replied.

"Another trade secret?"

"Yep," Remus grinned.

"Fuck, they're on the way!" Peter exclaimed, stuffing a piece of folded parchment into his back pocket.

"EVERYONE TRY TO ACT NORMAL!" Remus announced, magically amplifying his voice.

A few moments later, the portrait hole opened to reveal Sirius.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Gryffindor House, please put your hands together for the altogether excellent James Potter!"

The room burst into noisy cheering as James entered. He gave Sirius a dark look, then noticed the huge array of Chocolate Fudge sitting in the Common Room.

"I am going to murder you," he said between gritted teeth.

* * *

"Alright. Ravenclaw are a different pack of bastards from Hufflepuff. Their Chasers are experienced, and they've given us shite before. A close loss to Slytherin means they've still got plenty to play for. If they beat us they'll go first on points difference."

James looked around at his team.

"Let's do this."

" _Ladies and gentlemen, students, teachers - it's a fine morning for Quidditch at Hogwarts. Fresh off their victory against Hufflepuff, Gryffindor take on Ravenclaw, who hope to bounce back from an agonising defeat to Slytherin House! Let's welcome the teams! Recently featured on Teen Witch's Snogging Scale, it's Captain James Potter, and GRYFFINDOR!"_

Mounting his broom, James ignored his sniggering teammates, and shot into the stadium. The faces below became a blur as he set a blistering lap around the pitch.

Up here, there were no more distractions.

Only a singular focus.

"… _it's RAVENCLAW!"_

Sitting with Nicholas, Lily watched from the stands as Professor Hawthorne called in the two Captains, who shook hands in what looked like an effort to break each other's fingers.

"Thoughts?" she asked.

"It won't be pretty," Nicholas ventured.

On the pitch, James drew his team together in the huddle.

"Stick to the game plan. Frustrate their attack, fuck with their formations. We dictate the pace and flow of the game. I'll play call offence, Sirius will look after defence. Got it?"

The Gryffindor team answered in the affirmative.

"Right," James replied. "As per usual, let's fuck 'em up. Gryffindor!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Hawthorne blew his whistle, and tossed the Quaffle into the air as the crowd roared. A Ravenclaw Chaser was first to the ball, and raced down the left side of the pitch with Marlene in pursuit. The Ravenclaw Chaser veered into the area just as a well-aimed Bludger from Sirius smashed into her face. Reeling from the impact, she dovetailed to the ground as the Gryffindor spectators cheered.

" _White is on the floor as Black delivers a Bludger at close range! That's a brutal hit from the Beater! I don't know if she can continue - she's struggling to get up. And there goes her breakfast!"_

Down on the sand, White threw up violently. Hawthorne delivered two short blasts of the whistle, pausing play. As the Ravenclaw team descended around their teammate, James motioned the Gryffindor team to him.

"Perfect hit, let's see some more of it."

" _We're barely a minute in and White…she's motioned, she wants out! White is officially unable to continue! Ravenclaw loses their best wing Chaser to injury. Hawthorne is calling the Captains over."_

The Ravenclaw Captain dismounted and stormed directly over to James.

"Black is fucking out of control, Potter!" he shouted, standing over the Gryffindor Captain. "That was blatant! Get your dog in order!"

"You need your eyes checked, Blakely, and so does your Chaser," James retorted. "What the fuck are you doing putting her on your team if she can't handle a hit?"

"Boys! Boys!" Hawthorne said, raising his voice. "Enough!"

" _Tensions are clearly running high here folks!"_

Hawthorne turned to Blakely.

"It's a legal hit. She was fairly blindsided. No foul."

Blakely cursed under his breath.

"Make a substitution," Hawthorne continued. "Ravenclaw relinquished the Quaffle on the ground, the ball is Gryffindor's from the whistle."

Hawthorne handed James the Quaffle and those in the Gryffindor stands cheered.

" _The Quaffle is Gryffindor's. Potter with the ball."_

The piercing whistle rang out across the pitch once again, and play resumed, with James streaking through the Ravenclaw defence.

" _Potter goes right through, he's into the area, he's heading left, draws the Keeper, he scores! Flicks it back to the centre hoop! Ten-nil, Gryffindor!"_

* * *

They were ahead by one hundred and twenty points within thirty minutes of play.

" _It's a mystery to how he does it, but that offload is nothing short of spectacular! Potter sucks in two defending Chasers, sends the Quaffle to Doherty, and she scores, simple as that. This is no doubt one of the finest offensive displays Hogwarts has seen in years!"_

"This is embarrassing," Nicholas remarked casually.

"They could still catch the Snitch."

As if on cue, Alistair Thomson, the Gryffindor Seeker, dropped into a sharp dive, with his Ravenclaw counterpart on his tail.

A collective gasp went up from the crowd as the Seekers shot through the pack of jostling Chasers in pursuit of the Snitch. The Ravenclaw Seeker had accelerated out of the pack, and was half a broom ahead of Thomson.

Suddenly, a Bludger streaked in front both players, forcing them to swerve away to avoid a hit. Quaffle in hand, James rushed towards the Ravenclaw Seeker and threw the ball at him, hitting the hapless Ravenclaw player square in the face.

"Potter's a bloody menace," Nicholas said.

" _Potter with an obvious foul, but he's playing strategy here. The Snitch is out of sight, and Potter will bank on his Keeper making a save - which he does! Ravenclaw still only have thirty on the board!"_

* * *

An hour later, the Snitch had not been seen again, and Gryffindor's Chasers showed no signs of slowing down.

" _Potter seems to be taking his recent frustrations with a Teen Witch article about him out on the Ravenclaw side. He's setting a blistering pace here. Passes to Doherty, to McKinnon - back to Doherty, to Potter! Potter feints - now back to McKinnon, who scores!"_

James pumped his fist in the air as the Gryffindor Chasers circled back around to their end. Blood was trickling from a cut above his brow, and his left elbow was aching from a particularly vengeful Bludger, but he wouldn't trade the roar of appreciation from the Gryffindor crowd for anything.

" _This isn't Quidditch anymore, this is a schooling the likes of which Ravenclaw won't forget in a long time!"_

Moments later, James intercepted a Ravenclaw pass, tipping the Quaffle to his grasp and tucking it under his arm. He swerved to avoid a close Bludger, but it collided with his ankle, sending him into a tailspin.

" _Potter's spinning, fighting to get control - shoots the Quaffle to Doherty! She's dropping low down the side, coming on approach. McKinnon delivers a beautiful block, and Potter's back in support! Doherty lays it up for Potter, and he sends it home!"_

The Gryffindor Chasers celebrated with a lap of the pitch as their fans yelled themselves hoarse.

" _That's another Potter score! What a recovery! You've got to have some sympathy for Ravenclaw. They're trying everything but this defensive effort from the Gryffindor Beaters is superb. And the Chasers are putting the Quaffle through the hoops at will. Meeks will surely be challenged for the Ravenclaw Keeper's spot next season."_

Exhausted and bloody, Ravenclaw's maligned Chasers retrieved the Quaffle, and renewed formation, with their Beaters flying in support. Sirius motioned, and the Gryffindor side took on a defensive stance. Blakely navigated his broom through Marlene's tackle, and Lucy approached him to intercept. With a sickening crunch, Ravenclaw's Crosby crashed into Lucy, his Beater's bat colliding with her face.

" _That's a blatant collision in the air! Doherty looks in a bad way, she's…she's off her broom! I don't think she's conscious…Merlin!"_

Later, some would say that the stunt was worthy of Wronski himself. Others would say that James Potter was simply out of his mind.

With his broom locked into a his broom in a treacherous dive, James shot towards his falling teammate, his eyes never leaving Lucy as she plummeted towards the ground.

Fingers outstretched, James Potter grabbed a handful of her robes, and levelled his broom, pulling out of the dive, merely _inches_ from the ground.

A fresh roar went up from the spectators as James careened to a halt, crashing to the sand.

" _I've never seen anything like it. Merlin, what a dive!"_

Blood was streaming from Lucy's broken nose as Hawthorne's whistle cut through the air. Ominous bruising was beginning to appear as James carefully laid her on the ground.

"Easy, Potter. Stand back," Hawthorne said, rushing over with Madam Pomfrey in tow. "Let's get a look at her."

" _There's no way Doherty can continue. She's receiving medical attention, and Potter looks livid! He's locked in a shouting match with Blakely, and Black throws a punch at Crosby! This is an appalling display."_

"ENOUGH!" Hawthorne roared. "Captains! Here, now!"

James and his opponent approached the Professor with bitter expressions.

"Control your players!" he barked. "Any more of this and I'll void your wins. Crosby and Black are facing a two-week pitch ban if either of them so much as look at me funny!"

"Yes sir."

"Sorry Professor."

The game resumed, and some ten minutes later, Gryffindor caught the Snitch to tumultuous applause.

" _440 points to 80! Gryffindor destroy Ravenclaw in a display that ends any hope of Ravenclaw claiming the Cup and puts the Gryffindor team as firm favourites to take it out yet again!"_

Gryffindor's supporters swarmed onto the pitch as their team touched to ground. Lily made her way through the crowd to Marlene.

"Marley! You were brilliant!" she said, grabbing her friend in a congratulatory hug.

"Thanks Lil-"

Marlene was cut off by James hoisting her into the air and twirling her around in celebration.

"Marley McKinnon, I could kiss you!"

"Put me down you bloody oaf!"

He obliged, and caught sight of Lily.

"What'd you think of me out there, Evans?" he said, a gloved hand brushing through his mop of hair.

"You flew well."

"You're too kind," James quipped, noticing Nicholas standing next to Lily.

"Wright."

"Potter. Congratulations on the win."

James hawked and spat blood.

"Lovely," Lily commented.

"Hope your boys are ready, Wright," James said, smirking. "This was just a warm-up."

Nicholas' response was cut off by Sirius breaking through a throng of admirers and throwing himself at James.

"PRONGS!"

"PADFOOT!" James yelled.

"Four hundred fucking points!" Sirius crowed.

"Ravenclaw can suck my–"

"MOONY!" Sirius shouted, spotting Remus.

"Just lovely," Lily said dryly.

* * *

"Here, drink up," Pomfrey instructed.

James took the cup from her, and gulped down its contents.

"Your foot is going to ache for a couple of days. Don't run or put too much weight on it."

"I won't. How's Lucy?"

"Miss Doherty will be fine," Pomfrey replied. "Alright, you're free to go."

James made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, walking gingerly. Rounding a corner, he nearly collided with Lily.

"Potter!"

"Evans," James grinned. "Headed back to the Tower?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Likewise."

"This is a coincidence," she observed.

"Or it's becoming a habit," James replied.

"Still drugged up to your eyeballs on potion?"

"You know it," he smirked.

"And you're going to drink?"

James rotated his shoulder and grimaced.

"Whatever takes the edge off."

"You know, the Practicing Potioneers Association says that drinking alcohol after taking medicinal potions can have some really awful side effects."

"Funny, the Quidditch Association says the same thing about playing Quidditch."

"You're an alcoholic."

"Only on Saturdays. And Fridays," James mused. "Come to think of it, most Thursdays too."

"You finished?" she replied.

"So, you and Wright?"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"We tutor Charms together."

"That's not the only thing he'd like you to do together."

"Bugger off, Potter."

"His Dad's a bit of a prick," he replied.

"I don't care about his father. It's not him I'm dating."

"Oh, you're dating?"

"As of about an hour ago, yes."

"Congratulations," he said flatly as they reached the Fat Lady and paused.

"Well, Potter, it's been lovely."

He gestured at the portrait. "After you."

" _Omaha,"_ Lily recited, and the portrait swung open.

James followed Lily into the Common Room, and was greeted with a fresh round of cheers as his Housemates noticed his arrival. Sirius thrust a shotglass into his hand, and James quickly tipped it back.

Lily looked back at him as she walked away, meeting his eyes for a moment with an indeterminable expression. Then, she turned and disappeared into the crowd. James shook his head slightly, and handed the glass back to Sirius.

"Another."

* * *

They say disaster strikes at midnight, but it well past twelve when Professor McGonagall clambered through the Portrait Hole into the Common Room, her face pale with worry.

Either she did not see, or simply chose to ignore the students who scurried to hide the liquor they were drinking, and called out as the room quietened to a hush.

"Is James Potter here? Mr. Potter?"

James pushed his way to the front of the assembled students.

"Yes, Professor?" he replied, frowning.

"I'm very sorry, Mr Potter."

She handed him a folded sheet of parchment. James scanned through it, and his face went white. A nondescript bottle fell from James' shaking hand and shattered amidst the deadly silence of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"The Headmaster wishes to see you, and Mr Black, immediately."

McGonagall looked around the room and across a sea of confused faces.

"Hurry now. The rest of you, to bed!"

* * *

Years afterwards, James would say that he remembered the walk from Gryffindor Tower to Dumbledore's office as the longest five minutes of his life.

He and Sirius followed a silent McGonagall down the corridors, the castle quiet save for their footsteps. They arrived at the stone gargoyle after what seemed like an eternity. Uttering the password, McGonagall ushered them up the spiral stairs and into the office.

Again, Dumbledore sat behind his desk. Two men in Ministry robes stood nearby in quiet conversation. And garbed in a suit and an Auror Greatcloak, with his hands clasped behind his back as he stood alone - James' father.

"Dad?" James asked, puzzled. "Who's hurt? The letter didn't say–"

Nathaniel Potter looked at his son with a bleak expression on his features.

"I'm sorry, son. Your aunt Elda and your cousins are dead."

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the read. Next chapter soon!


	6. Only A Matter of Time

A/N: We're back! As always, reviews are great. Thanks heaps to those who were kind enough to offer their thoughts on the last chapter.

 **VI. Only A Matter of Time**

" _Death belongs to the dying and those who love them."_

– Sherwin B. Nuland

* * *

The image of his father's tear-streaked face would remain with James forever.

Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder. No words needed to be said.

"I think it is wise for you to be with your family at this time," Dumbledore spoke softly. "Minerva, kindly make the necessary arrangements for Mr Potter. And Mr Black?"

Nathaniel nodded.

"Of course. Albion will appreciate his being there."

Dumbledore inclined his head in response.

"Mr Black too, then."

Three Aurors stepped out of the fireplace following a flash of green fire.

"Sir, ."

Nathaniel nodded.

"Any leads?" he asked.

"Moody's on the ground as we speak," said the first Auror.

"Good."

"There's a fair chance that this is retaliation," added the second Auror.

"Retaliation for what?" James asked.

"A lot of things are about to happen," Nathaniel replied. "I'll explain what needs to be said later."

"Minerva, would you be so kind as to escort the boys back to their dorm? I imagine they will want to collect some belongings before their departure," Dumbledore said.

"We're leaving tonight?" Sirius asked.

"That's why the Aurors are here," Dumbledore replied.

"Come now, Potter, Black," McGonagall said, and ushered them from the room.

* * *

"The Auror Commander is waiting in London," the first Auror said.

"And we also need to brief the Minister as soon as magically possible," added the third.

Nathaniel turned to the second Auror.

"O'Rourke, will you escort James and Sirius to my home? They know the address. I'll be back later."

"Yes sir."

The two men wearing nondescript Ministry robes had been silent throughout the entire exchange.

"Dumbledore," spoke the first.

"Yes?" the Headmaster replied.

"I understand that this is inconvenient timing, but the matter we were discussing cannot wait."

"What's going on, Albus?" Nathaniel asked, his eyes narrowed. "Why is the Department of Mysteries here?"

"I'm afraid he cannot say," replied the first Unspeakable. "It's above your clearance."

"We'll see," Nathaniel replied flatly.

"We must insist, Headmaster," the second Unspeakable added.

"Of course," Dumbledore replied, standing. "Minerva will serve in my absence. To the Ministry, then."

* * *

McGonagall's interruption was the talk of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall the following morning.

"What do you think happened?"

"His parents, maybe?"

"Why did Black go as well?"

"Did you look at her face? And his, as they left?"

A group had gathered around Remus and Peter, who sat at the table with stony expressions. Their food lay barely touched on their plates.

"Remus, surely you know something? Peter?"

"Look, James and Sirius came back to the dorm about twenty minutes later. We spoke for all of a couple of minutes," Remus narrated. "They collected some clothing, and then left again. That's all I'm saying."

"It'll be in the papers soon enough anyway," Peter added.

"In the meantime, you can respect his wish for privacy," Remus admonished the group hanging on his every word. "Merlin knows he doesn't get much."

And with that, the two remaining Marauders, sharing a look that spoke volumes between them, left the table.

* * *

The news broke later that day. A small group of Gryffindors gathered around Lily in the Common Room as she read aloud from her updated copy of the _Sunday_ _Prophet_.

 _ELDA POTTER AND CHILDREN KILLED: ATTACK ON Prominent Ministry official and family ROCKS WIZARDING WORLD_

 _Elda Potter, a prominent legal administrator for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and her two children, were announced dead by the Ministry in an official statement earlier today. Mrs Potter, the wife of influential Wizengamot member Albion Potter, and their two children were discovered killed at their family home last night. Through voluntary submission to Veritaserum, Mr Potter has been ruled out as a suspect, and the perpetrator remains unknown. Aurors in charge of the investigation declined to give further comment on the incident, claiming that they had no authorisation to do so._

 _Sources inside the Ministry suggest that fears have been expressed for safety of the remaining members of the Potter family, who include Auror Nathaniel Potter - a close confidant of Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore._

 _It is expected that Aurors will be assigned to their protection, and the_ Prophet _understands Dumbledore is intending to heighten the level of security further around Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Nathaniel Potter's only son is currently a sixth-year student._

"This is horrible," Marlene said quietly. "Poor James. I can't imagine what he's going through."

"It says here that the funeral is on Wednesday," observed Lily, reading onwards.

"It's just awful!" Lucy Doherty added, only recently returned from the Hospital Wing.

The portrait hole opened and Remus and Peter appeared.

Lily flashed the paper at them.

"We've just found out."

Peter nodded sombrely.

"Have you heard from them?" Lucy asked.

"Not much. James said that the Ministry doesn't want them communicating. They're worried about further attacks."

"Why? Why does someone do this?" Marlene asked.

"They've got enemies," Remus answered. "There are a lot of people out there who would like to see the Potters suffer."

"But murder?"

Remus met Lily's gaze.

"I suppose it was only ever going to be a matter of time."

* * *

"I must return to Hogwarts, Nathaniel," Dumbledore remarked. "I fear I might become a distraction if I stay in London any longer. I'll return for Wednesday."

"It's been good to see you, old friend. Even under these circumstances."

"Indeed."

"Albus, once this is done with, you and I are going to have a talk about Level Nine," Nathaniel said evenly.

"Forgive me my secrets, Nathaniel."

"My patience is wearing thin, Albus. Every passing day they grow stronger and more brazen. People are becoming more fearful - and they only know what we're feeding them through the _Prophet_. Imagine if they knew even half of what's going on!"

"Which is why we must keep this quiet for as long as we can."

"I fear that window is closing."

"I agree. Before long, Riddle will show his hand."

"Will you fight him if need be?"

"My foremost duty is to Hogwarts. I must keep the School safe, and isolated. Behind her gates, my students are still children."

Dumbledore picked up a small briefcase.

"Keep an eye on Crouch for me."

"Of course."

"And try and stay out of trouble."

"I'm in the wrong business for that, old friend."

Dumbledore shot him a wry smile, and disappeared.

* * *

Lily looked up at the empty chair in the Great Hall. The Headmaster was conspicuous in his absence.

"Dumbledore's not in this morning."

"I'm not surprised," Remus said, reaching for a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "He'll be at the funeral, no doubt."

"Does he know the Potters well?"

"Yeah. I remember visiting James over the summer after fourth year, and Dumbledore was just sitting in the kitchen, chatting with James' mother. Discussing knitting, of all things."

"Do you know when he's back?" Marlene asked.

"Dumbledore?"

"James."

"No idea. Can't imagine it'll be much longer though."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated the enchanted ceiling.

* * *

Rain streamed off the umbrella, forming a puddle in the mud. James lifted a foot, and placed it back down with a _squelch_. Several figures in black suits stood dotted around the periphery.

There was not one hint of colour here, as he watched a throng of people congregated around three fresh mounds of dirt.

His father approached him, and cleared his throat.

"We haven't talked."

"Not much to say," James replied.

"Yeah."

They stood silently, one aged by all he had seen and done, the other still so young.

"Where's Sirius?" Nathaniel asked.

"Chatting with his Uncle."

"Alphard's getting on a bit."

"Mmm."

They fell into silence.

"How's school?"

"It's good."

"Good."

Yet another pause.

"Defence?" Nathaniel enquired.

"Professor is a bit rubbish," James said.

"The Minister would rather not emphasise giving combat lessons to students at the moment."

"What does Dumbledore think about that?"

"He has his reasons."

James' reply was cut off by another figure - Moody.

"Potter," the grizzled Auror said, ignoring James.

"Alastor."

"Got something you might want to see. Or rather, someone," he said, before casting his eye on James.

"Condolences for your loss, boy."

"Can this wait?"

"Don't know how much longer we'll be able to keep the bastard alive," Moody replied in a low tone, looking all the world like the cat that had got the cream.

Nathaniel sighed.

"Find your mother. Let her know I'll–"

"–be back later," James finished.

His father took Moody's arm, and the two vanished with a faint _crack_.

"Bye," James murmured.

* * *

Rain pelted against the windows of the Gryffindor Common Room as the students huddled in groups, engaged in homework

"The weather's been rubbish all week," Marlene complained.

"Fitting, really," Peter said, not looking up from the notes he was scribbling down on a scroll of parchment.

"This bloody storm!" exclaimed a voice irritably.

Remus looked up.

"That's Sirius!"

He looked up to see Sirius climb out of the portrait hole with a profoundly disgusted expression on his features.

"I'm soaked to the bloody bone!" he announced as he joined the group, removing his overcoat and dropping his bag on the carpet with a dull thud. "I need a shower, a drink, and a good root–"

"You're just charming," Lily said.

"Thanks, Evans."

He shook his head, sending droplets of water everywhere and earning a disgruntled look from a huddle of second-years.

"Where's Prongs?" Peter questioned.

"He's still at the old house. Didn't say when he'd be back for certain but it's already driving him spare. My guess is tomorrow."

"What was it like?"

"Hectic," Sirius said. "Couldn't scratch my arse without an Auror noticing. Whoever did this, they've kicked the proverbial hornet's nest. Overheard two Aurors talking about using Unforgivables. To hear it from the MLE, it sounds like they're at war."

"What about the funeral?"

"Just sad. Awful thing really. Same deal, security everywhere. Everyone who's anyone was there. James' uncle was a mess. Like he'd been kissed by a Dementor or something. Just _empty_. I mean, last summer James' mum was scolding him for making crude jokes at dinner. Now…" Sirius trailed off with a shrug.

* * *

He arrived at dinner the following evening. As the sky belched out a fresh round of thunder, he slipped through the entrance into the Great Hall. His sopping hair was plastered to his head, and water ran off his cloak in rivulets. As the hushed whispers grew with every step, he looked at no one, gazing ahead with empty eyes.

James Potter had been through more than one storm.

Remus loaded a plate with food, and slid it over to an empty space as students began to turn back to their meals.

"Here mate."

"Thanks Moony."

James took off his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, before digging into his meal.

"You alright Prongs?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah. I mean, it's hard, knowing that you won't see your cousin arrive at Hogwarts next year or get Sorted, or…anything," James replied. His face was a hollow mask.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter exchanged a glance.

"It's all so sad," Marlene observed, watching their interaction from further down the table.

"I can't imagine what he's going through - let alone his uncle," Lily replied. "Burying your family all on the same day…"

"You know, he's made a lot of enemies over the years," Nicholas said, digging into his potatoes next to Lily.

Marlene frowned.

"Working in the MLE will do that for you," she pointed out.

"I'm not trying to offend anyone, this is just the way I see it," Nicholas replied. "Look, maybe Albion Potter got what was coming to him."

His words could be heard by half the table. Almost as one, the Gryffindor students turned to look at the Slytherin. Lily winced inwardly at their collective glares, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Remus put a restraining hand on James' arm.

"You don't mean–" Lily started.

"Oh, I know it's a tragedy," Nicholas added. "I wouldn't wish it on any wizard, coming home to find your wife and daughters dead."

Sirius got up from his seat and moved quickly down the table towards Nicholas. His face was like thunder.

"Leave, now," he said, with venom in his voice. It sent a chill through Lily.

"Gladly, Black," Nicholas replied, with an edge to his voice. "You have a certain stench that I try to avoid if at all possible. Reminds me of betrayal."

Nicholas met her eyes as he left, and winked.

Lily looked back to Sirius, who looked on the verge of bloodshed, and was never more thankful for Dumbledore's presence, seated up at the Head table. The black-haired boy turned to her, his eyes a steely grey.

"The next time your date decides to voice his opinions, make sure he does it at his own table," he threatened, his voice low. "Because if he sits his arse on a Gryffindor seat ever again, I personally guarantee that he'll end up in a St Mungos bed."

He stalked back to his seat, not waiting for an answer from her.

Lily quickly gathered up her books and left the table, feeling suddenly like an unwelcome guest in her own home.

* * *

"Mate, I know you're not alright, so I'm not going to bothered asking."

"I want to kill them, Padfoot," James said, his voice a whisper. "If they were here, the ones who did it, right now, I'd point my wand, and–"

"I know, mate. So would I. But it won't bring them back. They can't be brought back."

"I KNOW! DON'T FUCKING TELL ME…" shouted James, before realising his outburst and trailing off.

"It's okay, Prongs."

"Sorry…I, I…just need to be alone right now, yeah?"

"Yeah mate, s'alright. Here, I'll fetch you a drink and leave you to it."

Sirius handed him a bottle of Firewhiskey from under his bed, and headed downstairs to the Common Room. He made his way over to where Remus and Peter sat, a chessboard between them.

"Verdict?" Peter asked.

"Give him another three days," Sirius replied. "I'll see if we can get him flying. Full moon is coming up too."

"Don't remind me," said Remus.

"It'll keep him distracted, I mean."

Remus nodded.

"Now, about the other matter," Sirius added.

"It can't go unanswered," Peter replied.

"It won't," Sirius said darkly.

* * *

His fist connected with the boy's face. Despite the height advantage, the older boy reeled from the blow. A second hit to the jaw floored him.

"Old Knuckleduster Charm always works a treat," James spat. "Should've kept your mouth shut, Wright."

He lashed out again, delivering a swift kick to Nicholas' chest as the boy tried to stand.

The other Marauders watched the grisly scene unfold, as James launched two quick jabs, drawing blood. Another hit to the jaw, and he felt the satisfying _crunch_ of bone breaking.

"That's enough," Remus warned.

"We're done here," Sirius added with grim satisfaction.

* * *

Lily approached the Marauders - sans James - at breakfast on Saturday with a scowl on her features.

"Why is Nick in the Hospital Wing?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Haven't a clue," Sirius replied with a shrug.

"Any ideas?"

"He tripped, I heard," Peter volunteered.

"Down the flight of stairs by the fourth floor Arithmancy classes," Remus said.

"That third step has always been a bit wobbly, come to think of it," Sirius added.

"And he just happened to land on his face," Lily said flatly.

"We're wishing him a speedy recovery," Remus said.

"He's weighed heavily on our mind," Sirius added glibly. "Sure, our best mate just lost three family members, but spare a thought for poor Wright, seven years at Hogwarts and he still can't walk down a flight of stairs."

"Where's Potter?" Lily said, ignoring Sirius.

"Working through his grief with Danielle Fenwick," Sirius replied. "She's such a nice girl."

"You're all disgusting."

"I mean, I am," Sirius replied, "but that's an awful thing to say about Remus, Evans."

* * *

"Here's trouble," Peter warned.

"Evans?" James asked.

"You wish. McKinnon."

"I know one of you kicked Wright's arse," Marlene said accusingly, sitting down across the table from the four boys.

"We're the Marauders. We fuck and we fight," James replied.

"It's sort of what we do," Remus added.

"When we're not fucking, we're fighting," James said.

"When we're not fighting, we're fucking," Sirius volunteered

"Sometimes we're just fucking about," said Peter.

"Sometimes–" Remus began.

"There's no way you didn't rehearse that," Marlene said, trying in vain to conceal her grin.

"You won't tell Evans?" James asked.

"He was being a git," she replied. "Your secret is safe with me – this time."

"McKinnon, have I told you how intelligent and good looking you are lately?"

"Keep it in your pants, Potter."

* * *

"Hey."

"Hey."

"We keep on running into each other," said Lily.

"Small school," James replied quietly.

"Big castle," she quipped.

He shrugged.

"Potter, I…I'm sorry. About what happened. I hope things are okay."

"You've nothing to be sorry for, Evans," he replied. "Thanks though."

"Do you think they'll find who did it?"

"They have some leads. Don't know if it'll get anywhere."

"I hope so."

They stood there, awkwardly in the corridor, neither knowing quite what to say.

"Well, er…I have to drop these off to the library, so…"

"Oh," James said, looking at her stack of books. "Yeah, course."

"Well, see you in class," Lily replied, and turned to walk away.

"I wanted to see her, Evans," he called out, and she paused. "I wanted to watch my cousin put on the Sorting Hat, and to welcome her to Gryffindor, and…"

He trailed off, his hand halfway through his mop of hair.

In six years, she had never seen him look so vulnerable, and she couldn't help but feel that perhaps she was meeting him for the first time.

His eyes met hers for a moment longer, and then he turned and walked away.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!


	7. The Devil You Know

A/N: After yet another brief hiatus, here's the latest chapter! Next one should be up sooner. Thanks for your patience!

 **VII. The Devil You Know**

"Plans?" Sirius ventured.

"Blowing off Slughorn's dinner," James replied.

"You're not going? Evans will be there."

"Sluggy will have a whole speech prepared acknowledging me and my unspeakable loss - which he'll then proceed to speak at length about," James said dryly. "Now, he'll only be able to gaze wistfully at my empty seat, and say, 'such a shame he couldn't make it. Family circumstances, y'know'."

"You've put a disturbing amount of thought into this," Sirius replied.

"If anything, I'm doing him a favour. This way he can go on about how close he is to my family without me being there to contradict him."

"You're a man of the people, Prongs."

* * *

"The evidence is irrefutable, Councillors! Voldemort's organisation is culpable for the deaths of at least a dozen Muggles, and quite possibly, the family of Albion Potter! This Chamber must act to preserve our security. Let the vote be cast!"

"Order!" shouted the Presiding Warlock. "I welcome Councillors to register their votes."

High in the public gallery, Dumbledore watched the proceedings of the ancient Council below.

"How do you think it will go?" Alastor Moody asked, his features scrunched up in distaste at the circus below.

"It will pass," the Headmaster said.

"You're confident, Albus," Moody replied.

"I'm rarely mistaken."

"Order!" the Warlock shouted. "Councillors, please be seated. Order!"

"Rowdy, aren't they?" Moody remarked.

"The result is in. I will have order!"

The Presiding Warlock gavelled the Chamber to silence, then spoke.

"By majority vote, the Resolution passes. The Wizengamot hereby denounces the wizard Voldemort as an enemy of the people. The Wizengamot instructs the Auror Office to use whatever magical means deemed necessary to bring Voldemort and his followers to trial before this Chamber. The Wizengamot authorises emergency powers to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Auror Commander in the interests of preserving public order. The Wizengamot further authorises emergency powers to the Minister for Magic in the interests of preserving national security."

* * *

"You're back late," Sirius remarked.

"Are you my mother?" James replied.

"How's Fenwick?"

"Hmm?"

"Your fly's down, Prongs."

"Fuck," James exclaimed.

"Yes, I imagine that was involved," Remus smirked from behind his newspaper.

"How was the dinner?" James asked, ignoring Remus.

"Shite," Sirius replied. "Evans looked decent though. Even asked where you were"

"What did you say?

"That you were balls deep in Fenwick."

"Fuck off."

"You wouldn't expect me to lie to her, would you?" Sirius asked.

"That's precisely what I'd expect you to do."

"Shit!" Remus exclaimed suddenly, holding his paper aloft. "The Wizengamot just denounced Voldemort."

Peter reached for his wireless radio, giving it a couple of sharp prods with his wand."

"… _if you're just listening in, we have breaking news. The Wizengamot Council has just passed a sweeping resolution denouncing Voldemort and his organisation as dark wizards. The Council, by slim majority, has authorised whatever magical means necessary to bring Voldemort to justice - awarding emergency powers to the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Minister for Magic. We understand that a state of emergency has been declared by the Minister's Office…"_

Peter dimmed the wireless, leaving a somber quiet in the Marauders' dormitory.

It was Remus who spoke first, articulating what they were all thinking.

"War."

* * *

"Class dismissed!" announced Professor Whitcliffe. She waved her hand and the notes on her blackboard disappeared. James and his fellow sixth-years filed out into the corridor.

"This is rubbish," Sirius said, hoisting his satchel over his shoulder. "The Ministry just labelled Voldemort's organisation as a threat to the nation, and we're sitting in Defence twiddling our fucking thumbs!"

"We should just do it ourselves," James replied.

Sirius mulled it over as the Marauders made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"That idea's not actually half bad."

"Think about it. We already practice our own curses and hexes, what if we invite others to join us?"

"Like a sparring session," Peter surmised.

"Yeah."

"I'll have a word with some people," Sirius said.

"Moony, can you suss us a classroom? Monday night?"

"Sure."

The group sat down at Gryffindor table moments before the food appeared.

"I hear Evans dropped Wright," Sirius said, filling his plate.

"Yeah?" James said.

"As he was leaving Hospital Wing, according to McKinnon."

"Oof," Peter remarked.

"What did she say?" James asked.

"Apparently she told him that if she'd wanted to date an arsehole, she'd be dating you," Sirius quipped.

James threw a fork in his direction.

"Prick."

* * *

James made his way quickly towards The Three Broomsticks. Hogsmeade was bitterly cold, with snow flurries swirling through the air, and he was grateful to reach the shelter of the inn. James bustled through the front door of the crowded inn, and scanned the room for a seat somewhere. A flash of red by a window caught his eye - Lily sitting in a booth, flicking through the pages of a well-worn novel. He made his way over.

"Evans."

"Potter," she greeted, setting her book down.

"Mind if I take this seat?" he asked, and sat down without waiting for a reply.

"Who are you waiting for?" she asked, her expression hard to read.

"You, since about third year."

"How's Danielle?" she retorted.

"No idea. We don't talk much."

"That must be a new experience for you."

James smirked, and took her half-full glass of Butterbeer, draining it in a single gulp.

Lily scowled.

"I was definitely finished with that, cheers Potter."

"Another drink?"

"Good luck, it's bloody packed in here."

James shrugged, and clambered onto the table.

"Here's to the most beautiful barmaid in all of Scotland!" he shouted, raising the glass into the air to cheers from the patrons sitting around them.

From the bar, Madam Rosemerta caught his eye, and made her way over.

"Feet off the furniture, Mr Potter."

"I do impulsive things for love, Rosie," he quipped, sitting back down.

"What can I get you?"

"Two Butterbeers please."

"Of course. Where's Mr Black?"

"Otherwise preoccupied."

"Pity. I'll get you those drinks."

James watched her walk away and sighed.

"She always did fancy Sirius more than me."

"He is much better looking."

"My pride is already wounded, Evans. Don't rub it in."

The barmaid returned with their drinks, and James handed her several coins.

"Rosemerta's Butterbeer is the finest around, but on days like these, you need a little kick," James said, fishing a small silver flask from his robes.

He unscrewed the lid and poured a measure into each drink.

"Here, give this a go."

Lily eyed it suspiciously.

"What did you put in it?"

"Evans, it's not spiking a drink if you've literally watched me do it. Here," he said, taking a drink. "It's fine."

Lily tentatively took a sip, and a feeling of warmth spread through her throat and across her cheeks.

"What's in that?"

"It's called _Moonyshine_. Wish I could take the credit but it's Remus' work. All he'll tell me is that it's part Pepper-up Potion and part Johnnie Walker. Keeps the edge off. Especially during Quidditch season."

"You're all alcoholics."

James shrugged.

"I can quit any time, Evans."

"How reassuring."

"What're you reading?" James nodded toward her book.

"A romance. It's utter rubbish," she replied dismissively. "Where's the rest of you?"

"Card game at the Hog's Head."

"Why aren't you there?"

"I just got out of detention, and they won't deal anyone in after it starts."

"This all sounds perfectly legal."

"It's only a few Galleons between friends," James replied, downing the rest of his drink before standing up.

"Well, Evans, this has been pleasant," he added, making a show of patting himself down. "You haven't threatened to hex me once, and my bits are still intact."

"Fenwick will be overjoyed, I'm sure."

He smirked.

"I have to go. Things don't get smuggled into the castle by themselves."

"You're incorrigible."

"I try. Catch you around, Evans."

* * *

"I ran into Evans at Hogsmeade," James reported later. He was lying on his bed in the Marauders dorm, throwing a Quaffle into the air and catching it as it fell.

"How are your bits?" Peter asked.

"Intact."

"Maybe she's getting soft in her old age," Sirius remarked.

"How was the game?" James asked.

Sirius made a disgruntled noise.

"Crap."

"Great," Peter smirked.

"You're a prick, Wormtail," Sirius replied.

"You're just bitter because it's the third week in a row I've beaten you."

"You're in a rut, Padfoot," Remus said, looking up from his book. "Go find a nice Hufflepuff girl."

* * *

James looked around the room, taken back by the number of people there.

"Er, hello," he began. "I guess most of you are here because you've no time for Whitcliffe."

"Or because we want to see you make a right arse of yourself," interjected Sirius, leaning idly in his chair.

James scowled at him.

"Thanks," he said dryly, before turning to address the group. "Look, like me, you're probably tired of Whitcliffe and her 'practical reviews'. Defence isn't meant to be theory-based, we're meant to actually do shit. So we want to meet up - say once a week - and go over what Whitcliffe has done in class."

He looked at the group of faces - some sceptical, some bored, some interested. To his surprise, Lily had shown up with Marlene, and he was pleased to see a curious look on the redhead's features.

"Who here knows how to cast a Patronus Charm?"

"What's a Patronus Charm?" asked a Hufflepuff.

"Who knows?" James asked.

"It wards off Dementors," Lily answered.

"Ten points to Evans," James said dryly. "Bloody useful piece of magic. Put your hand up if you can do it."

Lily raised her hand, glancing around the room. Remus, Sirius and Peter had put their hands up with James, as had Eleanor Fenwick, and surprisingly, Marlene.

"That's…actually more than I had expected," James said. "But still only seven in a class of what, thirty?"

"Show us, then," asked Natalie Bones, a Ravenclaw.

"Okay," James replied. He stood, placing his feet firmly, and raised his wand. _"Expecto Patronum!"_

With a burst of brilliant white light, a shining silver stag rose forth from James' wand, and cantered around the room.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm in," said Natalie Bones. "Will you teach us?"

A chorus of agreement came from the collective students.

James held up a hand, and the room automatically quietened.

"Behave, Professor Potter is talking," said Sirius, smirking from his seat in the back.

"It's not easy magic, and I'm warning you, you won't get it straight away," James continued, giving Sirius a flat look. "Questions?"

"Do you think it's dangerous? Out there?"

"If it wasn't, my cousin would be coming to Hogwarts next year," James said quietly.

There was a palpable silence.

"Er, anyway," Remus intervened. "For those of you who are keen, we'll start next week. Same time and place."

Their fellow students began to disperse in groups of twos and threes.

But Lily, her eyes wide, was still staring at James' Patronus in surprise.

"Something wrong, Evans?" James asked her, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

The red-headed girl recovered.

"No. Nothing's wrong. Er, excuse me."

She grabbed her bag and left the room, avoiding James' eye.

* * *

"What was up with Evans?" James asked after the Marauders had returned to their dorm. "She was staring at my Patronus. And then she practically bolted from the room."

Sirius passed a Snitch from one hand to the other.

"She's barking. I mean, all girls are, but Evans has a particular gift for it."

"Thank you for your adept assessment of the female psyche, Padfoot," Remus replied flatly.

* * *

"Shit night for it."

"Fuck!" Lily exclaimed, startled.

James nodded towards her telescope. "Astronomy?"

"This might be news to you Potter, but the Tower isn't just used for shagging."

"You don't say."

James peered up at the sky, brooding with clouds.

"Any luck?"

"Not really," Lily admitted, "but I need to get this essay done."

"When's it due?"

"Week tomorrow."

"Next Friday? Evans, you might as well have all year."

"Well, I'm busy all next week."

"Try Quidditch training all week."

"Try Prefect duty, tutoring three different year groups, the mountain of Transfiguration homework McGonagall assigned us, after-hours brewing with Slughorn, and Charms research for Flitwick."

"No wonder you're mental."

James rummaged in the pocket of his cloak and fished out a cigarette.

"Fag?"

"Sure," she replied, taking it.

He snapped his fingers, and the end of the cigarette lit up as if on cue.

She passed it back to him, and he took a long drag.

"I should quit. It's an awful habit."

"Nothing the right potion can't fix," she replied, taking the cigarette back.

"Still though."

Again, she passed the cigarette back to him, her eyes suddenly far away.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Has your Patronus always been a stag?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Runs in the family."

"Really?"

"Yeah. My dad, his dad, and his before him. All the same," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Apparently it's not so uncommon. Bit of a pureblood status thing."

Lily made a disparaging noise and he shot her a look.

"I don't buy into it, Evans."

"Doesn't stop you from benefitting from it though."

"What do you mean?"

"Doesn't stop you from having every door open to you. Opportunities that Muggle-borns could never have. No one questions your right to be here. No one questions whether you're good enough. The world - this world - is what you grew up with. It wasn't thrust upon you when you turned eleven. You don't have to deal with leaving your friends and family behind. "

"That's–"

"I bet there's a desk at the Ministry waiting with your name on it."

"Two, actually."

She scowled at him.

"I kid."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Look, I can't say I get it, because I don't. This is me being honest, Evans. I can't relate to the experiences of a Muggle-born witch, because I'm not one. But the reality of what's out there - the shit that's going on - means we've all got to pick a side. My family chose yours. I chose yours."

She looked at him with a sceptical expression, not entirely convinced.

"And all the shit you talked about, not getting the opportunities I get…we'll fix it. We'll fix it, but we've got to win first. That's all I've got."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"It's a start."

He made an exasperated noise.

"You're bloody difficult, Evans."

"Take a look in the mirror, Potter," she retorted, an eye on her telescope.

"Not your finest work."

"Oh fuck off."

He laughed, and stubbed the cigarette out on the parapet.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you, Evans."

"If it involves dinner you can forget it," she replied, scribbling in her notebook.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a moment later, raindrops began to fall.

"Bugger," Lily said, frustrated. She closed her notebook and began stuffing her stationery into her bag.

"Let me," James said, taking her telescope down from the parapet and folding it up as the storm picked up. "Come on, Evans, you'll be drenched."

Their walk back to the Gryffindor Common Room was quiet, punctuated only by the faint echo of their footsteps in the corridors.

"What were you going to ask me?" Lily said, breaking the silence.

"After seeing my Patronus the other day, you ran from the room," said James.

"I was running late for something."

"And now you're asking me if my Patronus has always been a stag."

"It's nothing."

"You're a shit liar, Evans."

" _Leave_ it," she replied, and that familiar edge was in her voice, the one he knew all too well.

"Suit yourself," he replied. " _Wyoming_."

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and they both clambered through.

"Hold on, Miss Evans."

Lily turned to see Professor McGonagall climb through the portrait hole behind her. The Common Room quickly quietened as the Professor cleared her throat.

"Do not leave this Common Room. The other Houses have been instructed to do the same," McGonagall announced. "Prefects, you are in charge. I assure you there will be grave consequences for any student found in the corridors. That will be all.

"Is there nothing we can do, Professor?" asked James.

"No, Potter. Stay _here._ "

McGonagall left, disappearing through the portrait hole.

"What's going on?" Lily asked Remus.

"No idea," Remus answered, his features troubled.

* * *

Four figures, garbed in black robes and masks, emerged from the Forbidden Forest with wands drawn.

"Quietly," one said in a hushed tone.

"Gentlemen, I fear you've made a grave error in judgement," Dumbledore said softly.

The Headmaster had seemingly appeared out of thin air in front of the group.

"You're an old fool, Dumbledore," proclaimed one of the wizards, training his wand on the Professor.

"Tom should know better than to send his followers to Hogwarts."

" _Avada–"_

Dumbledore gave a nearly imperceptible flick of his hand, and the wizard was thrown thirty feet by an invisible force. Two curses streaked past, then another, as the rest of the group opened fire. The Headmaster made a claw-like motion with his hand, and a second wizard collapsed, clutching at his throat.

The last two shared a look as Dumbledore advanced. With another minute hand gesture, the third wizard crumpled to the ground as two sharp _pops_ shattered his kneecaps. The last black-robed figure let off a torrent of red light, which dissipated harmlessly off a blue tinged shield Dumbledore had weaved around himself.

"Tom will need to do much better, I'm afraid," Dumbledore remarked. He made a final sharp gesture, and the last black robed figure fell to his knees, coughing up blood. The brutal assault had only taken a matter of moments.

* * *

Nathaniel Potter strode into Dumbledore's office with a grim expression on his features.

"I came as soon as I got Minerva's message. Dumbledore, how on earth did they get in?"

"I don't know. But I will personally bolster the school's defences," Dumbledore added, meeting his eyes with a piercing gaze. "Any subsequent attempts to breach the grounds will be considerably more arduous."

"How did you know they were there?"

"Naturally, the castle alerted me to their presence."

"We'll take them to Barden's Keep. Alastor is waiting," Nathaniel replied. "I'm sure he will prove to be a deterrent."

Dumbledore frowned.

"Nathaniel, my concern is not that more will come. Rather, I fear that Riddle will attempt to radicalise those already within these walls," he explained. "The students are young, and impressionable. With the right motivation they can be dangerous. And I fear I may already be too late."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews welcome!


	8. The Devil You Don't

A/N: A new chapter...and in reasonable time, too! Thanks to those who were kind enough to review the last chapter. As always, I really appreciate your thoughts on how the story is going.

 **VIII. The Devil You Don't**

" _Winning is not a sometime thing, it's an all time thing."_

– Vince Lombardi

"The game is in less than three days. How the fuck is he going to play?" Sirius exclaimed angrily.

"Mr Black, I will not have that language in this Hospital Wing," Madame Pomfrey warned, bustling past him.

"FUCK!" Marley swore, in frustration to rival Sirius.

"Marlene McKinnon!" Pomfrey admonished.

Two more of Gryffindor's players, Chaser Lucy Doherty and Seeker Alistair Thomson, burst through the entrance.

"We came as soon as we heard. How is he?"

"He's out cold, looks like shite, and there's the small matter of him _not having any fucking bones_ in his arms!" Sirius said bitterly.

"All of you, OUT!" Pomfrey ordered, pointing to the exit.

"But–" Marlene began.

"OUT!"

* * *

A small crowd of Gryffindors had gathered around the team as they held an impromptu council of war in the Great Hall over lunch.

"What the fuck happened, Padfoot?" Remus asked, joining the table with Peter in tow.

"I leave him alone for ten minutes," Sirius replied. "You'd think he wouldn't be stupid enough to get himself ambushed, but here we are."

"Who did it?"

"My prick of a brother and his mates, no doubt," Sirius replied sourly, glancing over at the Slytherin table.

"We reckon he copped a Stunner, maybe two," Marlene said. "There's bruising all over his face and neck–"

"I mean, his face wasn't too pretty to begin with, but this won't be of help," Sirius quipped.

"–and whatever hex they got him with, it took out all the bones in his arms. Vanished," Marlene added.

"It's bloody disgusting," Sirius said. "They're just dangling there."

"Like that time you tried that spell on your–"

"Shut up, Wormtail."

"Pomfrey's trying to get him right, but he'll have to grow the bones back overnight," said Marlene. "Even if he does, there's no guarantee he'll be in any shape to play."

"Or if he can, if he'll be any good," Peter replied.

"Prongs has played through injury before. If we dose him up, he'll be alright," said Remus.

"You can't seriously be thinking about getting him to play," Lily said.

"Evans, we need three Chasers," Sirius replied.

"Can't you find a reserve?"

"Yeah, but they're all shite," Sirius replied. "James on his worst day is still better than any replacement."

"It can take up to a week for a person to regain full motor function after Skelegrow," Lily pointed out. "He'll be lucky if he can even hold onto the broom!"

Sirius glared at her.

"Thanks for the optimism, Evans."

"I'm just saying–"

"There's no point arguing about it until tomorrow morning," Remus interjected, heading off an argument. "If he's still out to it then, we'll think about the alternatives."

* * *

That evening, Sirius, Remus, and Marlene approached Lily as she was studying in the library.

"Evans, can we have a word?" Sirius said in a quiet tone.

"I'm busy, Black," she replied, pulling down a couple of books from the shelf.

"We need your help. Or rather, James does," Remus interjected. "I know he's a shite, but you're the best option we've got."

"It's not happening."

"He's been less of an arse lately, you have to admit," Sirius pointed out.

"Coming from you, Sirius, that's not worth much."

"Come on, Lily, please?" said Marlene.

Lily sighed.

"What do you need?" she asked.

"Is there a potion or something you can brew? Something that'll get Prongs right for the game?"

Lily looked down, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Maybe. But it's not easy. And the ingredients - there's no way you'd get them in time."

"What would we need?"

Lily led them to the next aisle, and took a hefty book from the shelf, and flicked through it.

"Here," she said, pointing to a page with several years worth of scribbles in the margins. "Aconite, armadillo bile, salamander blood, powdered lacewing - these are all easy enough, but tooth of wolf and unicorn hair are locked away in Slughorn's private store, and he'll only let me use them under supervision. And then there's the Re'em blood. It doesn't keep, so it's got to be ordered in specially. And it's tightly regulated by the Ministry. Slughorn has a hard enough time getting it. I can't imagine a way that we can."

Remus and Sirius shared a look, and then Sirius made an exasperated noise.

"Looks like I'm calling in a favour."

"What do you mean?" Lily asked.

"If we get you the Re'em blood, will you do it?" Remus asked.

"Well, I've never–"

"How long will it take?" Sirius interjected.

"Two, three hours to brew, then it's got to settle overnight," Lily replied. "I can do that. But how are you going to get the blood?"

Sirius gave her a scowl.

"I'm going to talk to my mother."

* * *

"James is awake," Remus reported.

"How is he doing?" Marlene asked.

"He's able to move his hands, but there's still a lot of pain. Pomfrey's not prepared to let him play, but McGonagall's going to have a word with her."

"Nice to know she's concerned about student wellbeing," Lily remarked.

"Here," Sirius said, handing her a parcel wrapped in brown paper. "Re'em blood."

"How on earth did you get this?" Lily exclaimed.

"Trust me, you'll be happier not knowing," Sirius replied.

"How fresh is it?"

"Taken three days ago."

"That must have cost a small fortune!"

"Lucky me, my family has a large one," Sirius replied sullenly.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Sirius asked.

"Like shit."

"Can you catch a ball?"

James scowled.

"Bit optimistic, aren't we?" he replied.

"Merlin, you're as much a pessimist as Evans."

"Can the both of you please shut the fuck up?" Remus said sharply. His face was drawn and pale, and his hands were clutched around a goblet of a foul-smelling potion.

"Sorry Moony," Sirius replied.

"S'alright," Remus replied. The werewolf kicked off his shoes and sat down on the next bed to James. "Can you tell Flitwick and McGonagall know I'm in the Hospital Wing this afternoon?"

"Sure mate."

* * *

The Gryffindor Quidditch Team were lining up and waiting to walk onto the pitch as Lily entered their changing room under the stadium.

"Evans!" James exclaimed as he saw her. "You're a bloody beauty!"

" _Ladies and gentlemen, students, teachers, honoured guests, welcome to the Hogwarts Cup final!"_ blared the commentator.

"Evans, I don't know what's in this potion, but it's fucking marvellous."

"No problem, Potter," Lily replied with a tight smile. "Black, can I have a word?"

Lily grabbed Sirius' robes and pulled him to the side.

"Is he…high?"

"As a kite," Sirius replied gleefully.

"How much of that potion did you give him?"

"Half a vial, like you said."

"Diluted?"

"No, I didn't think–"

"You gave him half a vial of _concentrated_ potion?" she exclaimed. "Sirius, I _explicitly said_ you needed to dilute it first!"

"He'll be fine, Evans, don't you worry."

"It'll be a miracle if his heart doesn't give out!"

" _Please welcome your defending champions to the pitch! IT'S GRYFFINDOR!"_

Sirius picked up his broom as the crowd roared.

"That's my cue, Evans."

"Black, I swear–"

But Sirius had already left, leaving Lily standing alone in the tunnel.

"Fuck."

* * *

"Captains, shake hands," Hawthorne instructed.

"Always a pleasure, Warrington."

"Get fucked, Potter."

James smirked, and beckoned his team over.

"Slytherin sure as shit weren't banking on me being here today. So that's an edge. Hit them fast, hit them hard. Get in their heads. We get momentum, and we win early," he instructed, looking around at the group of determined faces. "Last game of the season. Let's make it count. Gryffindor!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Moments later, Hawthorne flung the Quaffle into the air, and James bolted for it, dropping a shoulder into his Slytherin opposite as he won the ball.

" _And we're off! Despite rumours that Potter wouldn't be available, he's in the thick of it early, streaking down the left wing and into the area with a clever cut across! He feints to McKinnon, but keeps it…scores in the centre hoop! It's ten-nil to Gryffindor!"_

A huge roar went up from the Gryffindor end.

" _Potter's Nimbus has lethal acceleration, and if he finds space, it's hard to keep up. Slytherin ball now, and they're running it low. Paisley crosses, as Warrington gets a good shot in with the Bludger - and just in time too. McKinnon was looking certain to steal."_

" _Ten-all. And Slytherin answer! Paisey puts it through. Potter retrieves the Quaffle and we're off again."_

James tore downfield, before dropping the ball to Marlene as Paisey closed in. Sirius smashed a Bludger from above, and the vengeful black ball smashed into the back of the Slytherin Chaser's head with a sickening _crunch_. Another roar went up from the crowd as the hapless Slytherin careened into the ground, blood streaming over her emerald robes.

" _Gryffindor's Black draws first blood! That's one of the most vicious hits we've seen this season! Paisley simply never saw it coming."_

Warrington signalled for a timeout, and Hawthorne blew his whistle to pause play.

"Good start," James said. "But we need to be better on defence - they answered far too quickly."

" _Paisey won't return - that's got to be a blow for the Greens. And now Warrington is storming over to the Gryffindor huddle!"_

"What are you playing at Black?" Warrington yelled. "That's a blatant foul!"

"You're a fucking hypocrite, Warrington," Sirius replied. "Saw you pull the same move on Hufflepuff."

Warrington turned to James. "Keep your dog on its fucking leash, Potter."

"Fuck off Warrington," Marlene replied, as Sirius reached for his wand.

James pulled Sirius back. "Not now," he warned.

" _Looks like things are getting heated early - but that's what we've come to expect from these exchanges. Warrington's only ever had the better of Potter once, and that's got be a frustrating factor coming into today's match."_

* * *

The game had only been going for half an hour when James careened into the pitch with a _thud,_ tumbling across the grass.

" _And Potter is down! He's lucky his broom is still intact - can't say the same about his shoulder from the looks of things."_

James grimaced as a splitting pain spread across his left shoulder. Sirius signalled for a timeout, and a moment later, Hawthorne blew his whistle. The Gryffindor side quickly descended to the pitch.

"You alright?"

"Shoulder."

"Broken?"

Marlene poked at his shoulder with her wand, and James let out a string of expletives.

"Nah, just dislocated I think."

James sighed.

"Get on with it, then."

Trying miserably to hide the grin on his face, Sirius drew his wand.

"Hold your arm out," he instructed, and James did so.

" _Looks like Potter is getting a bit of medical attention down on the pitch, folks."_

"Alright," Sirius said, pressing his wand into James' shoulder.

"Make it quick."

"Three, two…"

Sirius' wand let off a gunshot-like _crack_ that ricocheted across the pitch, as James swore again.

"Better?"

James rotated his arm.

"It'll do."

Hawthorne whistled and play resumed, with Gryffindor and Slytherin trading two goals apiece.

"We need some fucking separation!" James yelled at Marlene, as she took the Quaffle.

"I'm bloody trying!" she replied.

"Words between Potter and McKinnon - these two normally have a stronger defensive showing but both dealing with injuries today. That's a nice pass to Potter, and now he's moving in for another goal. Centre hoop - but it's saved!"

A cheer went up from the Slytherin end as James circled around.

" _And now Slytherin get a chance to pull further ahead - and they do! One-hundred ten to ninety. Can Gryffindor answer? Potter with the Quaffle."_

James offloaded the Quaffle a moment before a Bludger hit him low in the stomach, and he swerved off course, gripping his broom tightly. He dry-wretched, and then leaning over his broom, threw up the contents of his stomach.

" _That's a Bludger to the gut for Potter! Not a pretty sight! Warrington is really finding his mark."_

"You alright?" Marlene asked.

James gritted his teeth.

"Fine."

* * *

" _Slytherin answer with another score! They're up by thirty!"_

James shot down the pitch and feinted a pass, swerving past a Slytherin Chaser. Tucking the Quaffle under his arm, he crouched low to his broom and accelerated into the area.

" _How's this for a piece of individual brilliance! Potter can't be caught! The Bludger is well wide - that's good cover from Black - and Potter's clear into the area! He scores! Left hoop - makes it look easy!"_

James pumped his fist as the crowd roared.

" _Slytherin get the ball back - that's a risky pass from Nott - and it's intercepted by Potter! No one will catch him, and he puts it through the middle. It's a tie game!"_

* * *

" _Thomson sees the Snitch! He's diving for it - oh!"_

A roar went up from the crowd as Gryffindor's Seeker took a bludger square to the face and tumbled off his broom.

" _Thomson is out cold, as Slytherin return the favour. He's lucky to been hit so close to ground. Potter's calling for a time out. What will he do here? He's got a couple of options - you'll recall he played two games as Seeker in his third year, and the final in his fourth."_

James drew the team into a huddle as his Seeker was stretchered off the pitch.

" _It looks like Marlene McKinnon will fall back into the Seeker's slot. Reserve Chaser Zoe Knight will join the match."_

A nervous looking fourth-year mounted her broom on the sidelines and flew up to join the Gryffindor formation.

" _And we're off again, Gryffindor now up by forty. Don't be fooled by the scoreline - this is anyone's game, folks!"_

Lily watched as the Gryffindor and Slytherin Chasers traded three more scores apiece. James was a scarlet blur, twisting, diving, and rolling as he led the Gryffindor assault.

" _Potter has been exceptional on offence today. That's his seventeenth score today, with four intercepts under his–it's the Snitch!"_

Marlene and the Slytherin Seeker, Pucey, shot out of the sky in unison, both intently focused on the fluttering golden speck in the distance.

" _Pucey's closer, but only marginally. McKinnon is catching up, she's neck and neck, she's pulling ahead…but Warrington's going to intercept, he's right in her path! Wait, Potter is–"_

James streaked across Marlene and hit Warrington face-on with a sickening _crunch,_ sending them both careening towards the grass.

"– _Merlin almighty! Potter deliberately collides with Warrington at speed! That's a vicious hit! But now McKinnon's clear!_

James hit the ground, rolling away from his broom as a sharp pain spread across his left shoulder for the second time that day. A few feet away, Warrington was struggling to rise.

" _McKinnon's ahead. She's closing in…Pucey's too far away…it's all over! McKinnon's got it! GRYFFINDOR WIN! GRYFFINDOR WIN!"_

"You're a prick, Potter," Warrington said. His voice was nearly drowned out by the mob of cheering Gryffindor fans, who were climbing down from the stands and storming onto the pitch.

James sat up and laughed. His ears were ringing, his shoulder was definitely broken, his wrist probably too - and his robes were covered in vomit and blood.

"Go fuck yourself, Warrington."

Marley touched down nearby, grinning from ear to ear, still holding the Snitch aloft as Gryffindor House stormed the pitch.

* * *

Sirius and Peter had snuck several large kegs into the Common Room, and celebrations were in full swing by mid-afternoon.

"Two days ago he couldn't move his arms! Seventeen goals, and what has to be the stupidest block I've ever seen someone pull - James fucking Potter!" Peter yelled to raucous cheers.

James emptied his drink into the Quidditch Cup and raised the trophy aloft, before downing it in one giant gulp.

"Nine goals, and the catch to win it all - Marlene fucking McKinnon!" James shouted in turn, beckoning her to the front. She took the trophy to cheers from the crowded Gryffindor Common Room and raised it above her head.

* * *

The sun was setting over Gryffindor Tower when James made his way over to Lily.

"Here," James said, handing her a drink. "On me."

"Haven't we had a conversation about you drinking after a Quidditch match?" Lily replied, taking the proffered Butterbeer.

"I think my reply was 'I hurt like a motherfucker' and drinking numbs the pain."

"That's what the painkillers are for, Potter."

"I though they were just for fun."

"Your liver's days are numbered."

"Why Evans, I didn't know you cared."

"I'd rather be spared the sight of you dying from organ failure during lunch."

"I suppose it's the sort of thing that would put a witch off her meal."

She cracked a smile.

James took a swig of his drink. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?" she asked.

"The potion. I'd be fucked without it."

"It was nothing."

"It's a tricky piece of magic."

Lily shrugged.

"Don't be modest, Evans," James said. "Re'em blood is a shite to work with."

"Well, you're welcome."

"Prongs! Prongs!" Peter shouted, interrupting them.

James made an exasperated noise.

"Wormtail, I'm–"

"Danielle's looking for you. Said she wants to–"

"Thanks Wormtail!" James interrupted loudly.

He turned back to Lily.

"Impeccable timing from Wormtail," he said lightly, but the redhead's features had set into a careful mask.

"Don't keep Fenwick waiting," Lily said evenly, and turned into the crowd.

* * *

It was close to midnight when Sirius clambered through the portrait hole with a dark look on his features.

"Where the fuck have you been, Padfoot?" James greeted him.

"Snivellus," Sirius spat. "It was fucking Snivellus. He designed the hex that took out your arms. He planned it with my brother and Warrington."

"How do you know?"

"I ran into him."

"When?"

"Just now," Sirius said.

"And?" James pressed.

"I confronted him - told him I'd heard a rumour it was him, Sirius added. "But he couldn't have cared less. He had this look on his face - he was _happy_ , Prongs. Bloody unnatural."

"Why?" James replied, confused. "What the fuck is going on?"

"He told me he was going to get Moony kicked out of Hogwarts."

"What?!"

"He said he knew about Moony. Said he had the proof," Sirius replied.

"What did you do, Sirius?"

"Told him about the tunnel," Sirius replied darkly. "Said to Snivelly that if he wanted to know the truth, he'd best visit the Shrieking Shack."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading - let me know what you think.


	9. Padfoot's Folly

A/N: I'm back! Apologies for the long wait (again). I know this is a bad habit of mine. Unfortunately I was overseas for a few weeks and didn't get the chance to finish this chapter until now. Next one should be up sooner!

 **IX. Padfoot's Folly**

 _"No heroism is simple, just like no simplicity is heroic."_

– Ralph Emerson

James stared at Sirius in disbelief.

"You _fucking_ idiot."

"What?" Sirius asked, puzzled.

James pushed past him, checking his pockets. Empty.

"Wormtail, got a spare Sickle?"

"Er, sure," Peter said, rummaging in his robes.

"Hurry!"

Peter fished out a couple of silver coins, and James snatched them from his open hand.

"I'll explain later. Stay here."

Taking the stairs to his dorm room three at a time, James snatched his broom from behind the door and sprinted back downstairs.

"Move!" he shouted, pushing through the throng of students and out to the Gryffindor Tower balcony.

"Prongs, what the fuck is going on?" Peter exclaimed, confusion crossing his features.

"No time," James said, and promptly leapt over the balcony.

"Fuck!"

Marley joined him on the balcony, drink in hand.

"Did James just–"

"Jump off the edge," Peter replied.

"What's going on, Peter?"

"I have no fucking clue. Padfoot?"

Sirius' face drained of its colour.

" _Shit."_

* * *

He'd thought about it, of course, ever since Sirius had suggested it in third year. But James had never actually done it, never jumped off Gryffindor Tower with only a broom in hand, and the unforgiving ground hundreds of feet below.

Plummeting through the air, he somehow hooked his foot around the stirrup, and levelled out. His heart was pounding, and his mind suddenly clear.

Hopefully he wasn't too late.

James crouched low, and with a jolt - his broom wasn't customised for speed for nothing - rocketed towards the Whomping Willow. Touching down a couple of feet out of reach of the Willow's vindictive branches, James fished one of the coins he'd taken from Peter from his pocket. At least the moon was bright.

Levitating the coin with his wand, he flung it in the direction of the small knot at the base of the tree. A whiplike branch knocked it out the way.

"Fuck."

James summoned the coin, and it returned to his grasp. He'd have to go closer. He exhaled, and ran for it, coin and wand clenched in each hand.

A thrashing branch struck him square in the back and he crashed to the ground, tumbling towards the base of the tree. Another branch struck him from his side, and James could taste the bile in his throat. His ribs, still tender from the Quidditch match, were on fire. Twisting to avoid a third branch, James desperately flung the coin at the knot.

A fourth branch suddenly froze, just inches from his face, and he let out a sharp breath. James quickly made his way into the passageway underneath the tree.

" _Lumos."_

James didn't know whether to shout or not. If he did, he might alert the werewolf.

Remus. It was still Remus.

A faint howl broke through the silence, and James broke into a headlong sprint down the passageway.

James didn't know if it had been a minute or ten before he rounded a corner, and crashed into Snape with a thud. Both crashed to the dirt.

"Fuck! Snivellus, what–"

But Snape's face, white even in the dim light, told him all he needed to know.

"He's right fucking behind–"

Grabbing a fistful of the Slytherin's robes, James pulled Snape roughly to his feet. "Go!"

Snape needed no encouragement, dashing back up the passageway with James on his heels.

Ahead, the passage was narrower. They'd have to slow down.

An earsplitting howl pierced the air.

"Fucking move!" James shouted, frustrated by the slower boy. There was no need for quiet now. The werewolf knew exactly where they were.

James glanced backwards, and immediately wished he hadn't.

Two yellow eyes shone through the darkness. Grey, matted fur covered lean, sinewy muscle, long arms and legs ending in curled claws.

Remus had caught them.

" _Nox."_

Snape looked at him in alarm. "Potter, are you–"

James gave his wand a flick, and a small flame burst into life from the point of his wand.

He swallowed. His chest was pounding.

"Moony."

The werewolf snarled, its lips peeling back to reveal needlelike teeth and fangs.

Blood pounding in his ears, James took a step back, wand raised. The thin flame sputtered with the movement, giving off an eerie light.

The werewolf was still several feet away, but James knew all too well how quickly it could close the distance between them.

James took another step back, concentrating on the flame in his mind. A voice in his head was telling him to maintain contact with the werewolf's beady eyes.

The werewolf shifted its weight forward, muscles tightly sprung.

James paused, allowing the flame at the tip of his wand to grow.

"I don't want to do this Moony."

James could feel the weight of the silver Sickles in his pocket. If it came to it…

The words of his father rang through his mind, deep and grave, as he had explained to his son, much younger then, why his Auror kit included a small silver sphere, no larger than a marble.

It would not come to that.

It could not.

"Stop," James said, sounding much more certain than he felt. The flame was stronger now – strong enough that beads of sweat were forming on James' forehead with the heat.

Still, the werewolf stared, a low growl rumbling from its throat.

"Enough, Moony," James said, his voice thick. "Even werewolves burn."

He could hear Snape behind him, drawing quick breaths.

"Potter–"

The werewolf gave a deeper growl, its jaws parting ever so slightly.

James acted on instinct, twisting his wand in an arc as wide as the passageway would allow. The jet of flame filled the space between him and Remus with golden fire. The werewolf howled, drawing back from the stifling heat.

"Move!" James shouted, but Snape had already started moving. James followed, before pausing to let off another burst of fire. A couple of minutes later, he paused again.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked, panting.

"I'm going to cave it in," James replied. "Just in case."

James murmured under his breath, and with two sharp jabs of his wand, the tunnel behind them collapsed inwards.

"Let's go!"

A few minutes later, they reached the entrance. Snape clambered out of the passageway at the base of the tree, and suddenly ducked, as a branch lashed out. James, behind him, caught the brunt of it, razor-sharp leaves leaving thin cuts down his face and through his robes. He shouted out in pain, as a second branch swept his legs out from underneath him.

"The knot! Get…get the knot!"

A third livid branch hit James with a crack.

Snape frowned, before comprehension suddenly dawned. Shielding his face, he crouched and pressed the knot, freezing the tree.

James groaned, gingerly getting to his feet.

"You prick," he said, his voice hoarse. "Why the fuck did you go down there?"

"Black fucking said–"

"And you thought it'd be a good idea to listen to Sirius?" James spat. "You're a fucking idiot, Snivellus!"

"How on earth is that allowed on school grounds," Snape retorted, pointing back in the direction of the Whomping Willow.

James picked up his broom from where he'd left it, and hoisted it over his shoulder.

"Well, the tree–"

"I mean the _fucking werewolf_!"

"Remus has just as much right to be here as you do," James shot back.

"How has he managed to hide it from…" Snape began, before trailing off, as sudden realisation dawned across his pale features.

"Figured it out, Snivellus?" James said, smirking. "The whole thing was Dumbledore's idea."

"That's fucked up," Snape whispered. "This whole thing–"

"Is fucked up," James interjected.

The castle loomed overhead. It was darker now, with the full moon caught behind a layer of cloud.

"Can you get back to the dungeons without getting caught?"

Snape sneered.

"Easily."

"Good," James grunted, then drew his wand again, pointing it directly between Snape's eyes.

"What are you–"

"Don't tell a fucking soul, Snape, or I swear to Merlin you'll wish I left you in that tunnel," James snarled.

Snape gave a short nod, and James lowered his wand, before stalking off.

* * *

The party in Gryffindor Tower had begun to die down when James clambered back into the Common Room. He was in a state. His robes were ripped and torn, blood was seeping from several cuts, and a piercing pain had shot up his left arm to the shoulder. He caught sight of Sirius, who was standing by the wall, clutching a near-empty bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Black!" he barked, striding over.

Sirius looked up. "Prongs, I…"

James swung a right hook, knocking Sirius back.

"You fucking prick!" James roared. "You absolute fucking…how could you be so fucking stupid?

Sirius clutched at his jaw.

"How the fuck could you do that to Moony?" James berated, shoving him back. "What the fuck, Sirius?"

"I didn't…"

"You didn't what, Padfoot?" James shouted, landing a blow to Sirius's gut. "You didn't fucking think, you…"

"Potter!"

Lily's voice cut through the rushing in his ears and the raging anger at Sirius' stupidity.

He turned to her, noticing that the whole Common Room had gone quiet. Everyone was staring. Confused faces turned to neighbours to silently speculate what had happened.

"Party's done. Everyone fuck off," James said sullenly.

"James–" Marley began.

"I mean it. You all need to leave," James said. He hoisted his broom over his shoulder once again, and silently made his way up the stairs to his dorm.

* * *

James eased himself onto his bed with a grimace and kicked off his shoes. A sharp knock came on the door.

"What?" he snapped.

Lily walked in without waiting for a further response, Peter following.

"What happened with Remus, Potter?"

"I can't say. Bugger off Evans, I don't want an interrogation right now."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You know, it's a full moon tonight."

James let out a noise of exasperation. She knew.

"You know."

"Of course I do."

"Since when?"

"Last year. I do rounds with Remus, Potter. Didn't take me long to realise his scheduling conflicts."

"Does he know you know?"

"No."

"But you didn't say anything."

"What could I say to him that would make what he goes through any better?" she replied, and James was struck by the compassion in her tone. "I don't want to force something that's not mine to tell."

He nodded.

"Alright."

"So what happened?"

"Sirius ran into Snape – just earlier. Snape alluded to knowing that Remus was…a werewolf. And Sirius told him to go to the Shrieking Shack."

"Oh my God," Lily exclaimed.

"That's the secret. The Shrieking Shack isn't haunted. It's Moony–Remus. Always has been."

"How?"

"There's a passage from the Whomping Willow that comes up under the Shack," James explained. "Remus goes down the tunnel each month, transforms inside the Shack. Pomfrey and McGonagall usually fetch him in the morning."

"How awful for him."

"Snape went down the tunnel, Evans. Course, Remus got a whiff of him - werewolves–"

"–have great smell–" she interjected.

"Yeah. So I go in, run into Snape, and Remus is just behind him," James said.

"Fuck," Peter swore.

"Did he…?" Lily asked, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Not a scratch."

Lily let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding in.

"Managed to hold him back with an incendiary charm. Then I collapsed the passageway. Hopefully it looks like a natural cave-in."

"I can't believe you got out okay."

"What the fuck was Padfoot thinking?" Peter exclaimed.

"He wasn't, Wormtail," James said bitterly. "That's the fucking problem with Sirius, he doesn't stop to think about anyone but himself.

James paused.

"Where is he now?" he asked.

"He left as soon as you did," Lily said.

James grunted.

"Good."

"What about Snape?"

"I told him…well, he won't tell anyone what happened. Otherwise we'll all get burned by it."

"Will Remus remember?" she asked.

"I hope not," James said quietly.

He ran a hand through his hair

"Bet I look like shite."

"I don't think you'll be making the front cover of _Teen Witch_ anytime soon," Lily quipped.

James smirked.

"Peter, can you do me a favour?"

"Sure."

"Two, actually. Find out where Sirius is. Ideally far away from the Slytherins. I don't want him doing anymore stupid shit tonight. And then you need to pay a visit to the dungeons."

The two Marauders exchanged a meaningful look, then Peter nodded and left.

James sat up properly and fished out a bottle of Firewhiskey from his bedside cabinet.

"Fancy a drink?"

"I'm fine," Lily said, feeling somewhat self-conscious. She folded her arms.

"Suit yourself," he replied, taking a swig from the bottle. Colour rushed to his cheeks and he gave a small shake of his head.

"You should probably see Madame Pomfrey. Those cuts look bad."

"Can't. She'll ask questions."

"Well you're getting blood all over your pillow."

"There's a tin under my bed - there," he pointed. "It's got some Healer's supplies."

Lily crouched down and pulled out a worn silver tin pockmarked with dents and scratches. She handed it to him.

"Cheers," James said, opening the tin and pulling out a small vial. He uncorked it and downed the contents.

"Do I want to know how you got some of this?"

"Relax, Evans. It's from an old Auror field kit."

"Your dad?"

"Yeah," he replied, dabbing at his face with a cloth.

"Here," she said, pulling out her wand. "Sit still."

"I can look after myself."

"This is painful to watch. Just let me."

"Fine."

"This is going to sting a little."

"You should come with that warning label attached," he quipped. "Ah!"

"Don't be a smart arse," Lily replied, tapping her wand to each of the cuts on his face.

"It's sore."

"It's the Whomping Willow, Potter. What did you expect?"

He pulled a face at her.

"Don't do that," she admonished, sealing the last of the cuts. "Right. That should prevent it from becoming infected. You should definitely still go to Pomfrey though."

"I'll see. Thanks," he said, setting the tin aside. "You can't tell anyone about this, Evans," he added. "I mean it."

"I won't," she replied, standing up.

"Evans?"

"Yeah?"

"I never asked you about…Severus," James said, forcing the last word from his mouth with a faintly disgusted expression.

Lily attempted to hide her surprise.

"Sorry?"

"I mean, you were mates, yeah?"

"Yes. He was the first person from our world I ever met."

"Oh," James replied. "I didn't know."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"It must have been hard, after…"

"We stopped being friends."

James shot her a guilty look.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

She met his gaze, still sceptical.

"I mean, I really am," he added. "I don't like him but I didn't have to be an arse to you."

She looked at her feet.

"Well, he made a choice."

"It was the wrong one," James replied.

Lily looked at him a moment longer, then turned to go.

"Goodnight, Potter."

"Night."

* * *

Dumbledore looked at the young man over his spectacles.

"The only reason why I am not expelling you from this school, Mr Black, is because no one was seriously injured – or worse."

The Headmaster's tone was even, but anger and disappointment exuded from his voice.

"For that, you have Mr Potter to thank."

"You will serve detention every evening for the remainder of the school year."

"Professor, what about my exams?" Sirius asked.

Dumbledore motioned for silence.

"I suggest you make good use of your limited time. You will also serve detention three times a week for the first month of the new school year in September, and a two-game suspension from the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."

"But–"

"Do not think to presume, Mr Black, that this is a negotiation," Dumbledore added. "I should note that Professor McGonagall did not hesitate to recommend the Quidditch ban."

Sirius scowled.

"Kindly inform Mr Snape to come in when you leave. That is all," Dumbledore said, interlocking his fingers together.

* * *

"What's the verdict?" Peter asked.

"Detention every night for the rest of the year," Sirius replied. "And a two-match ban from Quidditch next season."

"James'll be livid."

"He'll cope," Sirius said.

The two Marauders walked along the corridor in silence.

"Has Moony…"

"He doesn't want to talk to you, Padfoot."

Sirius nodded.

"And Prongs is pissed," Peter added.

"I don't blame him. At least he got off scot free."

"Did Dumbledore tell you how he found out?" Peter asked.

"Didn't say. Snivellus caved, though," Sirius said. "The minute Dumbledore asked him what he was doing in the tunnel he started blabbering."

"He's a prick."

"That he is, Wormy."

They had reached Gryffindor Tower.

"Are you…?" Peter ventured.

"No," Sirius replied. "I think it's better to stay away, for now."

"Suit yourself."

* * *

"This is weird," Lily remarked out loud over breakfast.

"You say that like we're ordinary people attending school in a magic castle," Marlene replied through a mouthful of toast.

"No, look," she gestured.

James, Remus, and Peter were sitting together , talking animatedly about something Remus had read in the paper. At the other end of the table, Sirius was sitting by himself, seemingly engrossed in a book.

"Do you think it's weird that the Marauders aren't sitting together or that Sirius looks like he's studying?"

"Well, both. It's been three weeks, Marley," Lily replied. "I haven't seen them together since the Quidditch final."

"Apparently Sirius isn't even sleeping in their dorm."

"They've had rows before."

"Yes, but they're usually over in twenty minutes after they've fought it out," Marlene replied. "It would be great if you would tell me what happened."

"I already told you, Potter didn't say a word," Lily replied, feeling guilty she wasn't being truthful to her friend. "I tried to calm him down and then helped him heal the cuts on his face."

Marlene didn't look completely convinced.

"Rumour going around is that he saved Snape from something in the Forbidden Forest."

"There's all sorts of things in the Forest, that doesn't exactly narrow it down. And Potter wasn't exactly forthcoming," Lily added. "Told me to bugger off until I pointed out that he was getting blood on his pillow."

"These chats you have with James fascinate me."

"Why?"

"Because for so long you wanted nothing to do with him, and now you're always talking to him."

"It's not like we're meeting up in Hogsmeade."

"You literally had a drink with him in The Three Broomsticks the other day."

"That was weeks ago," Lily said defensively. "And it wasn't exactly planned."

"I'm just saying, people talk."

"What are they saying?"

"Nothing," Marlene said, finishing her glass of pumpkin juice. "Just that James called it quits with Danielle Fenwick last week and word is it's because of you."

"That's ludicrous," Lily replied. "He and I would never work."

Marlene stood and slung her bag over her shoulder as others around them began to make their way to morning classes.

"If you say so."

* * *

Hope you liked it - please let me know what you thought.


	10. Blood Of My Blood

A/N: It seems I say this every chapter...but sorry for the delay (I moved house). Enjoy!

 **X. Blood Of My Blood**

" _Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever."_

– Napoleon Bonaparte

Albion Potter reached out and placed a hand around his glass. His fingers shook slightly as he brought the glass to his lips, and slowly tipped the remainder of his drink down his throat, savouring the taste of a scotch only a few years younger than himself.

He placed several Galleons on the bar, and checked his watch.

Not much longer now.

He stood and adjusted his greatcloak, pulling it tighter across his shoulders. It was summer, but there was a chill in the air.

He did not acknowledge the barman's thanks as he left, leaving the door swinging in his wake.

It wouldn't be much longer now.

He cut an inconspicuous figure as he made his way along the cobbled street. Two lefts, straight along for a bit, and then a right down a side alley. He'd memorised the address, etched it into his mind.

The last vestiges of sun were disappearing on the horizon as the streetlights flickered into life. The occasional car ambled by. Muggle machines had always fascinated him, and he suddenly recalled a time, as a much younger man, when he and his brother Nathaniel had devoured books about internal combustion engines and gearboxes, with the intention of charming an Aston Martin sports car to go impossibly fast. Their project had come to a screeching halt when their mother had flatly informed them she would not permit such an exercise anywhere near the premises of the manor house.

His nephew, James, was arriving in London on the Hogwarts Express from Scotland today. The train would be pulling into the station at Kings Cross any minute now, if it had made good time.

Albion had always liked his nephew. He was, in many ways, the son he never had.

Albion rounded the corner to the side-street, and all thoughts of cars and family were pushed from his mind. The alley was deserted, but he took another glance backwards to make sure. Then, he slowly took his right hand from the pocket of his cloak, and snapped his fingers. In quick succession, the lights flickered out.

Soon, now.

He placed his left hand on his wand, holstered at his hip, and let out a slow exhale. Making his way down the alley, he turned and approached the second-to-last door.

 _Knock knock._

No answer. Albion lifted his closed fist to the door and gave it another sharp rap.

A moment later, the door crept ajar.

"Sorry, we're not interested. Don't need no newspaper or nothin'," a thin, reedy voice said, eyeing Albion up suspiciously.

"I'm not selling anything. I'm buying."

"We've got nothin' for sale neither. Best you be off."

"I was told Master Bortles resided at this address."

"Who's asking?" Albion made a show of jingling his coin pouch.

"A paying customer. I have Galleons burning a hole in my pocket."

The man peered at him a moment longer, and then, seemingly satisfied, opened the door wider.

"Come in."

"Thank you."

Albion followed the man down the hallway. The house was wretched. Paint was peeling from the walls, and a series of spidery cracks ran across the ceiling. A mottled rug lay over blackened floorboards.

The man gestured to a room to his left. In contrast to the hallway, it was warmly furnished. A seemingly new carpet covered the floor, and a long bookcase lined the far wall. A table and chairs sat in the middle of the room. A crystal decanter sat on the table, accompanied by several silver goblets.

"Mister Bortles will see you in 'ere shortly. But he don't like no wands."

"That's highly irregular."

"He's a careful man. You keep your wand, no sale. Gimme your wand, and he'll talk business."

Albion sat at the table, and handed over his wand.

"Then let's talk."

"I'll fetch 'im. Wait 'ere."

Albion exhaled softly.

Soon.

Bortles arrived a couple of minutes later, with three burly looking wizards in tow. As soon as he laid eyes on Albion, he drew his wand and pointed it at him.

"I don't fucking believe it," he exclaimed with a short, surprised laugh. "Albion Potter, as I live and breathe!"

Bortles was a thin, lanky man with sallow eyes and a face seemingly fixed in a mocking grin. His tone was light, but carried a dangerous edge to it.

"Tell me, Albion, how's your wife doing?"

Albion looked at him impassively, but didn't answer.

Bortles smirked.

"Bring him downstairs," he instructed, and one of the other wizards drew his wand.

" _Stupefy!"_

* * *

"You're an utter fool, Potter."

The room swam into focus. Albion regained consciousness to find he was highly bound to a chair, in another room. He glanced around quickly. It looked like a basement. Although dimly lit, he could make out a number of faces - faces he'd studied intensely, memorising their expressions, their eyes, freckles and scars.

They were all here.

A quiet surge of resolve flooded through him.

"What did you think you were going to accomplish by walking in here, unarmed?" Bortles said. His tone was mocking, and the smirk on his face was positively sadistic.

"Think you were going to avenge your kids?" Bortles asked, to jeering and catcalls from the group.

 _Crack._

Albion let out a yell of pain as Bortles shattered his kneecap with a sharp flick of his wand. The group gathered in the basement gave a collective murmur of appreciation.

"The losses we have suffered at your hands…" Bortles said, with a blazing fanaticism in his eyes.

 _Crack._

Second kneecap, gone.

"First, I'm going to make you pay for what your mates in the Auror Office have done to us."

Bortles tapped his clenched fist with his wand, and slammed it into Albion's gut. It felt like a sledgehammer. Albion gasped for air, as crushing pain blossomed across his chest.

"And then you're going to die."

Bortles drew back his fist, then delivered a sickening hook to Albion's face.

Albion Potter lifted his head, tasting the thickness of blood in his mouth.

Soon, so very soon.

An unspeakable loss danced behind his eyes, dark and still defiant. He spat, and then replied quietly.

"I decided to die two weeks ago."

Bortles frowned, taken back.

"What the fuck are you–"

The confusion on Bortles' face gave way to sudden comprehension as Albion let out a guttural roar…

…and ignited his soul.

* * *

The Auror Commander was not having a good day. He exhaled slowly, massaging his forehead with the tips of his fingers, and looked at the group of senior Aurors assembled in his office.

"27 people are dead. What a fucking clusterfuck!"

"My brother is one of those dead," Nathaniel Potter said solemnly.

"I'm sorry, Potter. I really am. But I have to ask. Did you have any idea, any knowledge whatsoever that he would do this?"

"Not a clue," Nathaniel replied, his expression grim.

"How did he access those files?"

"He's - he was a Wiengamot member," another Auror volunteered. "He had clearance."

"There's a difference between having clearance and knowing where to find things we don't want found," another pointed out.

"Excuse me sir."

A nervous-looking Executive Officer interrupted the group of senior Aurors.

"Sorry Commander, the Minister wants to see you. He's demanding to know why we didn't see this coming. Word from his office is that it's going to be a PR disaster."

The Commander slammed his fist down on the table.

"Fucking hell!"

* * *

Horace Horton, editor-at-large at the _Daily Prophet_ , was not the sort of man accustomed to being interrupted in the middle of his afternoon nap. New journalists at the newspaper quickly learned that any business requiring Horton's attention after lunch could damn well wait until 2:30pm, when, like clockwork, Horton would wake up to prepare the Evening edition.

"Sir."

Horton woke with a startle and immediately checked his watch. 2:08pm.

He narrowed his eyes at the nervous staffer sent in to wake him up, his moustache bristling.

"This had better be–"

"Albion Potter is dead."

That would do it.

"How?" Horton barked.

"He gained access to some Magical Law Enforcement files on Voldemort's people. He found out where some of them were living, walked in the front door, and then blew the house up with himself in it."

"Blew it up?"

"Explosion. The Muggles have been told it was a gas leak."

"Fuck…" Horton trailed off.

"He wasn't right after they got his family," the staffer opined.

"Clearly," Horton replied. "When did this happen?"

"Er, last night sir."

"And I'm only just hearing about it now?" Horton's moustache bristled dangerously.

"Sorry sir, our sources inside the MLE only just found out about it themselves. The Aurors were playing this one close to the chest."

"Right," Horton replied, his brow furrowed in thought. "Put our best people on it. I want it on the front page within the hour. Full inside spread in the evening edition. Chop chop!"

* * *

They had all come, despite the rain.

From beneath the rim of his umbrella, James looked around at the group assembled in the London cemetery.

A fleet of black cars had deposited what looked like half the Auror Office amongst the gravestones dotted in orderly rows on the well-kept lawn.

By the Aurors, in somber black, were a huddle of senior Wizengamot figures – those who had been closest to his uncle. The Minister for Magic's Chief of Staff stood a few feet away, surrounded by a retinue of undersecretaries.

And then, in twos and threes, representatives from most – if not all – the great pureblood houses of Wizarding Britain. The Potters were not members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

But they didn't need to be.

Money opened every door that status usually held closed.

And after all, it was good to be in business with the Potters.

"Prongs."

"Padfoot."

Adorned in black motorcycle leathers, Sirius stood out from the rest, his helmet held casually at his hip.

"Shite day for it."

"Yeah."

There was a pause as Sirius fidgeted with the visor of his helmet, and James continued his study of the crowd.

"Has Moony said anything?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"No."

"It's been three months."

"You hurt him pretty badly, Padfoot."

Sirius nodded.

"Suppose I'll – I don't fucking believe it!" he exclaimed. "Lucius fucking Malfoy."

"Guess he's come to pay his respects," James said bitterly, watching the silver-haired wizard pause to speak to a colleague in the Wizengamot.

"And Macnair too," Sirius said. "The fucking nerve. Wonder why they showed?"

Alastor Moody shuffled past them with a slight limp and a thunderous expression on his features.

"Clearly you're not the only one who'd like to know," James said quietly.

* * *

She couldn't quite place it, but there was a tension in the air, Lily decided, as she made her way down Diagon Alley on a sunny August afternoon. Around her, expressions were pinched and drawn, their glances were more furtive, and the steady bustle of people shopping was more hurried.

They were afraid.

To the Muggle-born witch, it was discomforting. Magic had always bestowed a certain feeling of safety - that wounds could be healed or dangers expelled with the simple wave of a wand.

But magic could not fix broken hearts or broken minds, she had surmised, after reading about a gas leak in the local newspaper two weeks ago - and then reading a very different story in another.

She had considered writing to Potter afterwards, but had thought better of it.

What could she say to him that he wouldn't already hear? What inane sympathies and platitudes could she express any better than anyone else? It wouldn't change things one bit, she had decided, with her quill poised above a piece of parchment.

And besides, they weren't that close.

Sure, a couple of late-night conversations, a chance run-in at Hogsmeade, and the business with Remus and Severus had meant she'd spoken to him more in the last couple of months than she had in the same number of years.

But they weren't _close_.

Speak of the devil.

There, sitting at a table in the sun, holding a Fortescue's Famous Fudge ice cream dangerously close to melting completely, was Potter, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

She hesitated, suddenly unsure if he would want company. He seemed to be alone - and perhaps after the business with his uncle, he'd prefer it that way.

"Evans!" James turned and raised his sunglasses, waving her over.

Clearly, he didn't mind company.

"We keep meeting," she remarked by way of greeting.

"It's uncanny, really," he replied, before kicking out a seat with his foot. "Here."

"Are you sure you're not stalking me?" she said, sitting down.

"Why would I when I have connections in the Auror office that can do that for me."

Florean Fortescue bustled over, and Lily ordered a raspberry sundae – "a fine choice, Miss Evans."

"Potter, I heard about your uncle. I'm so sorry."

James shifted uncomfortably.

"Thank you. It's okay. A part of me – I don't know – expected it, perhaps. Not that any of us had any idea what he was going to do, but…things weren't right with him after…well. You know."

"Yeah."

Fortescue returned with Lily's sundae and she handed him a couple of coins.

"Have you spoken to Remus? Or Sirius?"

"Yeah, both of them. Honestly I'm tempted to lock them in a room together and let them fight it out."

"That sounds healthy."

"Can't be the worst idea," James said, taking a bite of his ice cream cone.

"Suppose not," Lily agreed, then let out a laugh. "You've got ice cream all over your face."

"Don't critique my ice cream eating, Evans."

"What, aim the cone somewhere in the vicinity of your face and hope that some of it ends in your mouth?"

"You're taking all the fun out of this."

"I didn't realise I was eating ice cream with a six year old."

He shot her a flat look, and then took another bite.

"How're your hols?" he said, reaching for a napkin.

"Er, good," she replied. "A bit boring really."

"How's your sister?" James asked. "Whatsername. With the face."

"Petunia."

"My next guess."

"She's revolting."

"As in, she's been reading Karl Marx or she's disgusting?" James queried.

"She's met this bloke called Vernon."

"Ghastly name," James interjected.

"And she's been fawning all over him all summer. It's Vernon this, Vernon that," Lily said, making a face. "Vernon can barely fit through the front door."

"He sounds charming."

"He's just gotten a promotion at the place he works for, and Petunia is telling anybody within earshot it means he'll propose to her soon."

"How long has she known him?"

"Six months," Lily replied. "They started walking out together soon after."

"Merlin."

"She's desperate to get married – I really don't understand why," Lily added.

"You don't understand why she wants to get married, or why she wants to get married to him?"

"Well, both," said Lily. "I mean, I can see what she sees in him. Vernon has money and likes to spend it on her. Which is fine by Petunia. But it's not what I'd want."

"What do _you_ want?" asked James, meeting her gaze, his eyes intent.

"I don't know."

"You don't know what you want?"

"No one's ever asked me."

"I just did," James replied, wiping his face with a napkin and scrunching it up.

"Well, after Hogwarts, I'd like to travel. I've never been further than France really."

James nodded.

"And then?"

"No idea. Maybe a Ministry job. Slughorn mentioned I'd be a good Healer. You?"

"See which Ministry Department will offer the highest starting salary for my services."

"Prick."

He smirked.

"I always assumed I'd join the Aurors."

"Not Quidditch?"

"Perhaps. I've talked to a couple of scouts but Association rules mean teams can't approach me formally until the end of the Hogwarts season. But I don't know if I'd enjoy it the same if it was my job."

"So Magical Law Enforcement then."

"Yeah," James replied, and cocked his head to the side. "Y'know, Sluggy might be onto something. Top of the year, Head Girl…St Mungos would be lucky to have you "

"You think I'll get Head Girl?"

"Sure. It's no contest," James replied easily. "And even if it was, Dumbledore would still choose you."

"I don't know," Lily said.

"You've thought about it though," James said, and Lily couldn't help but feel he was testing her somehow. "Every Prefect does."

"I guess it'd be nice," she admitted.

"Every Head of House likes you," James said, ticking off on his fingers. "You're best in the year at Charms, so that's Flitwick. Slughorn goes without saying. Professor Sprout likes everyone. And McGonagall would never admit to favourites, but it's definitely you."

"I would've said you were."

"Nah, can't be me. I cause her too much trouble," James replied. "The the only reason why Minerva hasn't kicked me out yet is because I keep the Quidditch Cup in her office."

"Who do you think will get Head Boy?"

"I obviously want it to be Remus, but seeing as you're a lock for Head Girl, it rules him out. Dumbledore never goes for two Heads from the same House," James replied. "Other than that, I don't really care."

"I guess we'll know soon enough."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, ice creams long finished.

"I didn't ask how your holidays are going," Lily said, eager to fill the sudden pause in conversation.

"I've got a ball this weekend," James said distastefully.

"You can dance?"

"I'm a pureblood, Evans. I could waltz before I could fly."

"Where is it?"

A pained look crossed his features.

"We're hosting."

"You're joking."

"If only."

"It's a marvel you can talk so much with the silver spoon rattling around inside your mouth like that."

James smirked.

"I imagine the guest list is very exclusive," Lily added.

"The Minister had to fight for an invitation," James said dryly.

"What's the ball for?"

"It's a charity event," he replied. "Raising money for some social initiative."

"Typical pureblood," she said. "Throw money at the problem and hope it goes away."

"Being pureblood isn't everything it's cut out to be, Evans," James said. "You're no better at magic. You have to deal with the scrutiny of society. And the expectations that people have of you are immense."

"The pressure must be unbelievable," Lily replied, suddenly annoyed at him. "How you cope, I can't imagine."

"Evans, I don't–"

"It's _much_ worse being a Muggleborn," Lily interrupted.

"I'm not saying it isn't," James conceded. "I'm just saying that being different wouldn't necessarily help."

"Can you name one Muggleborn witch or wizard on the guest list?" Lily asked pointedly.

"No," James admitted quietly.

Lily stood and hooked her bag over her shoulder.

"I've got to go, Potter."

He nodded. "Sure."

"I'll see you at Kings Cross. Have fun at your ball."

She didn't wave or look back at him as she walked away.

After all, they weren't that close.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think! I always look forward to hearing your thoughts.


	11. Glorafilia

A/N: Again, thanks for your patience! Let me know what you think of the latest chapter:

 **XI. Glorafilia**

" _Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must."_

– Thucydides

"The fucking nerve of him!"

Lounging on her bed, Marlene McKinnon watched Lily stalk around the room, a letter angrily clutched in her hand.

"I mean, you did point out to him that no Muggleborns had been invited."

Lily scowled at her.

"I'm just saying."

"Stop being so rational."

Marlene smirked at her.

"Anyway, it wasn't an opening for him to invite me! Just listen to this–"

"I already have–"

"–the Potters have the distinct pleasure–"

"–several times."

"–of requesting your company this Saturday evening…"

"You should go."

"…at Potter Manor. Like they just expect me to know where Potter Manor is!" Lily said, throwing her hands up in the air, before realising what Marlene had said. "Wait, what?"

"You should go."

"Not a chance," Lily snorted.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be terribly disappointed when you tell him you're not coming."

"Well, I'm not going to tell him. This is ridiculous."

"Can I go with you? Potter's parties are legendary."

"I don't know why you're so interested. It'll just be a bunch of boring Ministry stiffs and rich Purebloods."

Marlene shot a surprised look at her.

"It's not just adults. There'll be people from Hogwarts there too. The place is big enough that the students basically have their own party. Last time, they had a endless champagne fountain in the middle of–"

"How do you know all this?" Lily interjected.

Marlene shrugged. "Hogwarts. Gossip gets around."

* * *

Marlene had twisted her arm to the point where Lily had given in to accepting the invitation. It hadn't just been Marlene, Lily conceded privately. Ever since receiving the invitation, she'd had a burning curiosity to visit James' home.

And now, here she was.

For once, the Hogwarts rumour mill wasn't exaggerating, Lily thought as she entered the ballroom.

The place was huge. A band stood in one corner, and tables laden with food and drinks flanked the walls. A crowd of people milled about in the centre of the ballroom as House Elves diligently attended to the guests. Lily watched as a wizard in an eclectic set of polka-dotted dress robes finished his drink to find two House Elves assembled at his feet with a fresh glass at the ready.

An impeccably dressed man with a thin moustache greeted them.

"Ladies, your names?"

"Lily Evans."

"Marlene McKinnon."

"And your invitations, please," the man added.

Lily handed him the letter. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned through it, but made no objection.

"Thank you," he replied, as Lily made to move on.

Marlene put a hand on her arm.

"Wait."

"What?"

"He's going to announce us."

"You're joking."

"Nope."

"Miss Lily Evans," the man intoned. "Miss Marlene McKinnon."

Lily felt self-conscious as his voice, magically amplified, echoed around the room.

"Now we can go," Marlene instructed.

"What was even the point?" Lily asked her. "No one noticed."

"It's traditional, I suppose," she replied with a shrug. "Come on."

"Alright, McKinnon?"

Someone had noticed their arrival after all - Sirius Black.

"S'pose Prongs invited you," he said to Lily, before letting out a low whistle, his eyes roving over her.

"Fuck Evans, you do tidy up."

"You're a pig, Black," Lily bit back.

"A dog, actually," he said, with a funny sort of self-loathing look. Then he fumbled in his robes for a hip flask, unscrewed it, and took a long swig, before walking away.

"He's in a state," Marlene said distastefully.

"I'm surprised he's here," Lily mused.

"Lily!"

A boy with sandy-blond hair garbed in blue dress robes beckoned them over.

"Do you know him?" Marlene asked.

"It's Benjy Fenwick - he's in Ravenclaw."

"Oh, the Prefect?"

"Yeah."

"Benjy, this is Marlene," Lily introduced her friend.

"McKinnon? On the Gryffindor team?"

"I don't think we've met."

"We haven't, but you're the reason the Ravenclaw Beaters cry themselves to sleep after our games."

Marlene smirked.

"How's your evening?" Benjy continued.

"We've only just got here."

"Oh! Let me find you a drink," he said, raising a hand and snapping his fingers.

A House Elf appeared out of thin air a moment later, and took their orders before disappearing.

"I didn't realise you were on the guest list."

"It was a bit last minute," Marlene explained. "We got invites from James."

"Ah," Benjy replied, his facial expression betraying his distaste.

The House Elf reappeared with two champagne flutes, and diligently handed them to Lily and Marlene.

"Well, here's to drinking Potter's champagne," Benjy said, raising his glass. "Cheers."

The two girls joined his toast, and chatted with him for a few minutes more before moving on.

"Can we get a snack?" Marlene asked. "I'm bloody starving."

They made their way through a throng of people to a table laden with canapés. Marlene picked up a bunch of grapes and popped a couple in her mouth.

"Doesn't sound like Benjy is much of a fan of Potter," she said. "Any–"

"He did walk in on Prongs shagging his cousin in the supplies cupboard on the fourth floor," interjected Sirius, standing on the other side of the table with Peter in tow.

"Sirius, piss off," Marlene replied.

"That's not even the best part," Sirius said, ignoring her. "Here she is, knickers 'round her ankles, and she tells her cousin, _'fuck off Benjy, I'm busy."_

Peter collapsed into a gale of laughter.

Lily took Marlene's arm and turned her away.

"I just don't have time for him when he's like this."

"When _who's_ like this?"

"Oh _wonderful_ ," Lily muttered.

James had appeared, with a faintly puzzled expression on his features.

"Never mind," Marlene said to him.

He shrugged. "I'm glad you made it, Evans."

She offered him a polite smile.

"Thanks for the invite."

"I had to drag her along," Marlene said, and Lily scowled at her.

"I'm glad you did," James grinned, and gestured around the massive room. "What do you think, Evans?"

"I simply don't know how you cope in such squalor."

"I persevere."

"Such courage."

"I am a Gryffindor," he remarked. "Would you two like a tour? I have to mingle some more, but I can show you around later."

"Sure," Lily nodded.

"I'll find you," James said, before melding into the crowd.

* * *

Lily and Marlene rejoined the small group of Hogwarts students standing by the drinks table. Aside from Benjy, there were another couple of Ravenclaws Lily recognised from Charms class, a Hufflepuff, and Remus.

She had struck up a conversation with Remus and Benjy when Sirius pushed past.

"Fenwick," Sirius greeted him. "How's the family?"

"Fine thanks, Black," Benjy replied. "And yours?"

Sirius' jaw hardened.

"I was sorry to hear that James broke things off with Danielle," he replied, reaching yet again into his robes for his hip flask. "Is she here tonight? Maybe I could–"

"Stay away from her, Black," Benjy growled.

"Don't worry, Fenwick, I'll stay away from broom closets."

"You–"

" _Enough."_

James had reappeared, and he firmly stepped between the two.

"Fenwick, it's up to you really, but I wouldn't rise to his bait," he said to the Ravenclaw. James then turned to Sirius with an expression like granite.

"If you have any respect for my mother, you won't start a fight in this room," he said, his voice cold with anger.

Lily was taken back – in six years she'd never heard James talk to Sirius like that.

Sirius looked down, not meeting James' eye.

"Stick your head in the shower, Padfoot. You stink."

Sirius shambled off and Jame ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"He's been an absolute shite tonight."

"I've noticed."

James shot her an apologetic look.

"How about that tour?"

Lily shrugged.

"Okay."

"Great," he said, leading her out of the ballroom and down a hallway.

"I'll have you know I spotted three separate specks of dust on the way in."

"Three?" James said, an expression of mock horror crossing his features. "The House Elves will have to be flogged."

"Simply unforgivable."

"Good help is so hard to find."

"Have you got your Hogwarts letter yet?" he asked.

"No, you?"

"Neither. I think McGonagall secretly hopes she doesn't have to send it each year."

"That's ridiculous. McGonagall adores you."

"She once gave me three straight months of detention, Evans."

"It's how she demonstrates affection."

James laughed.

"Do you not get lost in here?" Lily asked.

"You learn your way around after a few years."

"Where are we headed?"

"The library."

"You have a library?"

"It overlooks the lake."

"The _what_?"

"Just a small one," he added defensively.

"Just how much–"

"Hold on," James interjected, pausing suddenly.

Two voices were coming from around the corner.

"Thank you, Nathaniel," the first voice said. "I hope you don't mind my interruption."

"Not at all - please, let's chat in my office," said a second voice.

"It's my dad," James said to Lily quietly. "I want to hear this."

She shot him a puzzled look, but followed him to a room further down the hallway.

"Quick, in here."

"What's this?" she asked.

"This was my old bedroom," James said. He clicked his fingers and a soft light filled the space.

"It's right next to my father's study. If I sat in the wardrobe, I could hear him working."

She gave him a quizzical look.

"I used to eavesdrop on him sometimes when I was little."

"Exciting childhood."

"Well, I didn't have any siblings."

"They're overrated," Lily replied.

James opened the wardrobe doors. It was empty now, save a wooden trunk tucked in the corner. He stepped inside and put his ear to the back wall.

"What are you doing?" she said in a hushed whisper.

James put a finger to his lips, motioning for silence, then beckoned her over. Lily mimicked him, putting her head to the rear of the wardrobe.

"…as you know, the Minister was unable to make it. Please accept his apologies," said a voice - one James had heard before but couldn't quite place.

"It's quite alright, Ignatius. We understand that he's a busy man." The voice of his father came through quite clearly – and James clicked onto the identity of the stranger: Ignatius Morin, Chief of Staff to the Minister for Magic.

"Nevertheless, he impressed upon me the need to convey his regrets," Morin said.

"We appreciate it. Can I offer you a drink?"

"Please."

Crouched in the wardrobe, James heard the clink of glasses and a drink being poured.

"I don't suppose this is just a courtesy call?"

"No, it's not, I'm afraid."

"Go on," Nathaniel said.

"We need to discuss You-Know-Who," Morin replied.

"Are we really calling him that?" Nathaniel scoffed.

"It's catching on at the _Prophet_ ," Morin replied dryly. "I understand you've met him."

"Yes, when he was at Hogwarts. He was 16 or 17, I think. Talented boy – complete arse though."

"Oh?"

"I'd been asked to assess him for possible recruitment into MLE."

"And what was the verdict?"

"You just heard it," Nathaniel replied. "It didn't matter anyway - after Riddle left Hogwarts, he spent some time abroad and then took a job in some shop."

There was a pause, and then Nathaniel spoke again.

"Riddle's biography isn't why you came here tonight, Ignatius. What's going on?"

"The Minister fears that any overt efforts to subdue Riddle's movement will divide the nation."

"Are you serious?"

"We can't have a civil war, Nathaniel."

"What Bartemius is proposing would hardly result in a civil war," Nathaniel scoffed.

"That's a strange alliance, you and Crouch."

"What do you mean?" Nathaniel asked.

"The Head of the largest Ministry Department and the Deputy Auror Commander, who also happens to be part of one of the wealthiest and influential families in the nation, Morin responded. "It's a formidable ticket."

"It's nonsense."

"You're both prominent voices on the Wizengamot. You're both experienced civil servants. And you could quite conceivably outspend any opposition."

"If I was going to run, you'd know about it already."

"Be that as it may, the Minister is sensitive to these things. You know there's an election coming up."

"Not for three years," Nathaniel said. "Besides, I think you should be more worried about Millicent."

"Yes, well, she's another matter entirely."

"Anyway," James' father redirected the conversation.

"Yes, about Riddle," Morin said. "Prominent families have urged the Minister to demonstrate restraint. Merlin knows your Aurors could use some."

"Restraint?"

"Yes. You can start by putting Mad Eye on a leash."

"You're worried that if Bartermius gets his way, there'll be bloodshed in the streets of London."

"It's a perfectly reasonable concern. People have a funny habit of dying when Aurors get involved."

"Who's talking?" James heard his father ask bluntly.

"You know I'm not going to tell you, Nathaniel. But these are influential voices in this administration," Morin replied. "And frankly, the Minister needs their support for his domestic agenda."

Nathaniel Potter let out a string of expletives.

"Right now, the only thing on his bloody domestic agenda should be national security!"

"Nathaniel, I–"

"Is he _reading_ what we've been putting in front of him? Does he fully understand the extent of what's happening?"

"Of course he does – but this isn't his sole focus."

"Just yesterday, my field Aurors reported that Riddle's people are recruiting Giants. Ever tried to Stun a Giant, Morin?"

"Look–"

"Riddle's raising an army, and unless we start fighting back while we still have the upper hand, then we won't stand a chance. It's already worse than people know."

In the dim light of the wardrobe, Lily met James' eyes. His face was troubled.

"What would you do if you were the Auror Commander?"

"What does it matter. I'm not the Commander."

"You can be honest with me, Nathaniel. The fact that you wanted the job is the worst kept secret in the Auror Office."

"I'm too old, Morin. It's a job for a younger man."

"Maybe if you hadn't been so close to Dumbledore all these years, the Minister might have considered you earlier."

"I chose my friends carefully, Morin," James' father replied softly. "I have not yet found reason to regret that."

"Tell Bartemius that you won't support an authorisation of the Unforgivable Curses," Morin urged. "Do that, and I'll see to it personally that the Minister appoints you as the new Auror Commander in six months time."

"I think we've exhausted this conversation, Ignatius," James' father replied cooly.

"Consider it, Nathaniel," Morin said. "Thanks for the drink."

James heard the sound of a chair being pushed back. Motioning for silence again, he gestured to the wardrobe door.

"What was that?" Lily exclaimed.

"That was my father talking with Ignatius Morin. He's the Minister's–"

"Chief of Staff. I know," Lily replied.

"It's a lot worse than people know,"James said, echoing his fathers' words.

"And?"

James' face was troubled.

"I don't know, Evans. But it isn't good."

Then his expression changed, and a glint of mischief reappeared in his eyes.

"Let's go see the lake."

"Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"If there's a magic carpet involved, I will drown you."

* * *

They made their way back to the ballroom, where they ran into Marlene.

"Where have you been?" she exclaimed. "Remus and Sirius are fighting! I've been trying to find you!"

" _Finally_ ," James muttered. "Where are they?"

"Outside."

Both Lily and James followed her lead out of the ballroom. Up ahead, two figures were rolling about on the ground, throwing flailing punches and kicks at each other.

"Moony is beating the shit out of Padfoot," Peter said, idly watching. "It's very entertaining."

"Aren't you going to stop it?" Lily said to James, alarmed.

James looked offended at the suggestion.

"Don't be ridiculous, Evans, I've been waiting for this to happen for months."

One of the figures – it looked like Remus – had gained the upper hand, and landed two sharp blows to his opponent's face and jaw.

James winced.

"Had enough?" Remus said.

Sirius spat.

"Just getting started," he said, drawing his knee up into Remus' ribcage. The werewolf grimaced, as Sirius swung his leg around and kicked Remus solidly in the side of the head.

"This is getting out of hand, Potter!" Lily said.

"No, this is exactly what they need," James replied. "Watch and learn, Evans. "

Remus ducked away from a punch, and then spear tackled Sirius to the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

Sirius didn't strike back, trying to regain his breath as he lay on the grass.

Remus sat up and wiped away a thin trickle of blood running from his nose, and spat.

"I forgive you, Sirius. We all do."

"Why?"

"We're the only people who tolerate you, you prick."

Despite a puffy eye, several bruises, and a cut on his lip, Sirius was grinning broadly as he gingerly got to his feet.

"Good?"

"Good," Remus replied.

Sirius grinned again, and Lily swore she'd never seen him look so happy.

She threw her hands up in exasperation as James and Peter hollered loudly.

" _Boys!"_

* * *

It was midmorning the following day when James woke up to the sound of an owl tapping at his window.

He ran a hand through his hair and stifled a yawn, before getting out of bed and opening up the window to let the bird in. He took the letter, and handed the tawny owl a treat, which it gratefully pecked at on the windowsill.

James turned it over, and then suddenly froze.

Frowning, he gave it a shake. There was something in there. He quickly tore the envelope open, and a silver badge dropped into his palm.

"Huh."

James quickly threw a shirt on, and made his way to the guest bedroom where the other Marauders had stayed the night.

"Wake up!"

Sirius threw a pillow at him, but Remus was already awake.

"They've fucked up the post," James announced. "Moony, I've got your letter."

"I've already got my letter," the werewolf replied. "An owl showed up ten minutes ago."

"Well, this one has a Head Boy badge in it," James said.

"I don't suppose you've actually bothered to read your letter?" Remus said dryly.

"Dear Mr Potter, it is my distinct pleasure…" said James, his voice trailing off as he looked at Remus and Sirius in horror.

"Oh fuck."

"He's _mental_. He's gone bloody mental," Sirius said.

"What the fuck am I meant to do with this? Remus, I'm not even a Prefect! This should be yours! I'll write to Dumbledore, decline the position. I'll ask him to give you the badge and –"

"Decline what position?" Peter said, walking into the guest room.

"Dumbledore made James Head Boy," said Sirius.

"You're taking the piss."

"If only," James said, eyeing the shiny object with apprehension.

Peter gaped.

"Here Moony, you have it," James threw the badge at Remus.

"I don't bloody want it. You're stuck with it," Remus replied, throwing it back.

"Stop laughing, you prick!" James admonished Sirius, who was enjoying James' predicament far too much.

"Are you sure you're not allergic to responsibility?"

James shot him a flat look.

"This," he said, holding up the badge with distaste, "isn't even the worst of it."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"If I'm Head Boy, that means Evans didn't get Head Girl."

"Cheer up Prongs," Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm sure she'll only hold it against you until Christmas."

"Or Easter," Peter added.

"Or forever," Remus said.

* * *

A/N: Cheers for reading!


	12. This Thunder Heart

A/N: Apologies again for the long wait – I'm travelling a lot and it's hard to find the time to write. I hope this chapter makes up for it! Let me know what you think.

 **XII. This Thunder Heart**

" _You are advised to submit without further delay, for if I bring my army into your land, I will destroy your farms, slay your people, and raze your city."_

– Philip II, to Sparta

"Stop pacing, Prongs."

"She's going to be fucking unbearable," James exclaimed.

"I don't think you're giving her enough credit," Remus replied.

"She's going to resent me all bloody year because I got Head and she didn't."

"That's unlike her," Sirius chimed in.

James shot him a flat look.

"Arse."

James' fears turned out to be unfounded however, when a letter from Marlene that afternoon confirmed that Lily had been appointed Head Girl.

"Two Gryffindors," Remus mused. "Dumbledore is playing at something."

"I don't care what he's playing at," James replied. "I'm just glad to avoid a bollocking from Evans."

"I mean, don't bet against it," Sirius said.

"Are you going to write to her?" Peter asked.

"And miss the look on her face when I tell her the happy news in person?" James scoffed. "Not bloody likely."

* * *

They hadn't planned it – rather it had just sort of fallen into place. In a way, it was fitting that they all arrived at Kings Cross within moments of each other.

James gave a polite nod to the Auror in nondescript Muggle clothing standing by the entrance to the station as they walked in. It was early still – and only a scattering of students stood on Platform 9¾ when they passed through the barrier.

But the Hogwarts Express was there, gleaming in scarlet and shrouded in steam.

The four – they had started so many years ago as boys but were now young men – paused at a carriage door.

"Last time, gentlemen," said Sirius.

"Last time," James echoed quietly.

Peter and Sirius went down to find a carriage at the rear of the train while Remus and James headed to the front.

James ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

"You'll be fine," said Remus supportively.

"This is ridiculous," James said, opening the door to the Prefects' carriage. Unlike the others, most of the compartments had been replaced with bench seating that ran down each side of the carriage. A single compartment was at the front. The carriage was empty, save for a couple of wide-eyed fifth years, who started whispering to each other when they saw James.

"You're in there," Remus pointed.

"Where?"

"The room that says 'Heads' on it."

"Why?"

"So you and Lily can fight in private," Remus replied.

James shot him a flat look and went ahead into the Heads' compartment. He removed his jacket, tossing it onto the seat, and picked up the letter on the table in front of him.

" _Congratulations to you both on this prestigious appointment. You join a long line of Head students who…"_

James put the letter down. He didn't want this. He'd never wanted this. Quidditch Captain – that was his fit. Not patrolling the corridors and telling students off for flouting the same set of rules he had for years.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out the badge. It sat in his palm, the words Head Boy inscribed in shimmering, exquisite silver.

Stupid fucking thing.

He pinned it to his Gryffindor jersey, catching his reflection in the carriage window.

He looked a right prat.

Maybe he could talk to Dumbledore – maybe it wasn't too late to get the Headmaster to change his mind.

Maybe he could transfer schools.

Massachusetts was nice this time of year. Beauxbatons was the preference, of course, but after the two weeks he'd spent there for a school exchange, he doubted he'd be welcome back.

He diminished the thought from his mind. He wasn't leaving Hogwarts – not when Sirius, Remus, and Peter were still there.

He met his reflection again. The badge glinted in the light and he scowled. He didn't have to wear it, he figured – at least not until he reached school.

He went to remove the badge – just as Lily walked into the compartment.

She froze, gaping at him, then suddenly laughed.

"That's not bad Potter," she grinned, putting her bag down. "You can give it back to Remus now."

"I mean, I wish I could."

Lily stared at him, her mouth dropping open again.

"Tell me you're not serious."

"He's down the other end of the train."

"You've been telling that shite joke for years, and it hasn't gotten any better with age."

"You have," he quipped.

"I mean it, Potter," she said, with a sudden edge in her voice that James was all too familiar with.

"Here," he said, handing her his letter. "It's got my name on it."

Her mouth dropped.

"Fuck off."

"Read it."

He slumped into his seat, and fished out a Chocolate Frog from his jacket pocket while Lily scanned through his Hogwarts letter.

"I don't believe it," Lily said.

"I don't like this either, Evans." James said between a mouthful of chocolate. He fished the card out of the wrapper, and turned it over.

He held the card up so Lily could see. "But _he_ was the one who decided to make me Head Boy."

Lily looked at the card, then him, suddenly angry.

"Do you have _any_ idea of what you've gotten into?" she flared. How could Dumbledore choose him, of all people? James was going to make her look bad for the entire year. She'd been so proud, so pleased to tell her parents that she'd made Head Girl, and now she'd have to spend half her waking time with _him_.

"I guess we're doing this," James said sourly.

"This is genuine _responsibility_ , Potter," she said coldly. "It requires maturity, reliability, and common sense. You need to be trustworthy and dependable. Which quite frankly, you haven't gone out of your way to demonstrate any of that for the last six years!"

"I suppose I need a thesaurus, too?" he said acidly.

"You don't have a _fucking_ clue as to what's involved, because you've never been a Prefect!" she yelled. "You never had to _earn_ this. Once again, you just waltzed right into it!"

A high pitched whistle screeched, and the Hogwarts Express began to move with a shudder, before pulling cleanly out of the station.

"I didn't ask for this, Evans," he said, running a hand through his hair again. "I got the badge and the same letter telling me to–"

"You know, every single little thing that we do this year is going to reflect on the other," she cut in. "I'm not going to let you make me–"

"I will not make you look bad!" James snapped. "For fucks sake, Evans! If I can organise a Quidditch team, I'm sure I can organise a couple of rosters and walk around the halls."

"There's more to it than putting together a schedule!" Lily shouted. "You have to be a role model for everyone! Being Head Boy doesn't mean you can abuse your power to get out of whatever shit you decide to pull!"

"I'm sorry if I wasn't _your_ first choice for Head Boy, Evans, but here I am anyway," James retorted.

"I worked so hard for this – and you, you just–"

Unshed tears were standing in her eyes, James realised with a shock. His retort died in his throat. As hard as it was for him to admit it, she was right. What kind of assurance did she have that he would hold up his end of the bargain?

He stood.

"You're right," he said quietly.

Lily blinked.

"I didn't have to work for this like you did. I didn't have to prove myself like you did. No one ever assumed I couldn't cut it because my parents were Muggles," James paused.

She met his gaze.

"I don't know shit about being Head Boy," he admitted. "Will you help me?"

Green eyes bored into hazel as she read his features, a faint crease between her eyebrows. Was she trying to figure out if he really meant it?

"Okay," she said softly, and James let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd be holding in.

"Together?" he asked.

"Together," she smiled.

James gestured towards the letter he'd left on the table."We've got mail."

"Did you read it?" Lily asked.

"Struggled my way through the first sentence. What does it say?"

"It's mostly instructions," Lily replied, scanning through it. "We've got to patrol the train with the Prefects. And we're meeting Dumbledore and McGonagall after the Welcome Feast."

"Alright," said James. "Lead the way."

He followed her out of the compartment to where the group of Prefects were sitting on each side of the rail carriage. The fifth years looked nervous. James recognised those from his year - including Benji Fenwick, Michael Lee from Hufflepuff, and Issac Nott of Slytherin. He avoided the haughty glare of the Slytherin and made eye contact with Remus.

"Mum and Dad shout a lot, but they love us really," Remus said dryly.

Several Prefects laughed apprehensively as Lily cleared her throat.

"Alright, er, welcome back for another school year everyone. Congratulations to the fifth years joining us. Being a Prefect is an exciting privilege but it also carries a lot of responsibility," she said. "I'm sure you know both of us, but for the sake of formality, I'm Lily Evans, and our Head Boy is James Potter."

She turned to James.

"Do you want to say anything?"

"Sure. Thanks Evans," said James. "Obviously I was never a Prefect but Dumbledore made me Head Boy – I assume as punishment. If you have a problem with it, please feel free to discuss it with him."

* * *

"That went well."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "You did a good job of deflecting the 'whole you weren't a Prefect' thing. Passing things onto Professor Dumbledore is the best way to get them to shut up. At least that's what Alice told me."

"Alice?"

"Engaged to Frank Longbottom."

"Oh!" James recalled. "They're both in Auror training."

Suddenly, the brakes of the train squealed, and they were both thrown forward. James was back on his feet in an instant, reaching out his hand to Lily.

She took it and he pulled her up

"What was that?"

"I don't know," she said, going to the window.

"Fuck!" James exclaimed, looking out the windows on the opposite side.

"What?"

"Someone's attacking the train!"

Lily rushed over to his side of the carriage. Several figures in black robes were circling around the Hogwarts Express on brooms. One of the figures launched a stream of purple light at a train car, shattering the glass windows.

"Voldemort's people," James said. " _Death Eaters_."

The name sent a chill through Lily.

"I'm going to go up front," she said. "We can't let the train come to a stop."

"Good idea," James replied, already moving. "I'll find the Prefects."

He paused at the carriage door.

"Stay safe."

Their eyes met.

"You too."

* * *

"Moony!"

James found Remus crouched down with his back to the carriage wall. Shards of glass littered the ground.

"Do you know what they're after?" Remus said. "Or who?"

"No idea," James said as another window shattered overhead.

"Stay down!" Remus yelled.

"Where's Padfoot?" James said, brushing fragments of glass off his robes.

"Further down. He's holding a carriage with a bunch of Gryffindors."

"We have to get a message to the Aurors."

"Peter's working on it," Remus answered. "Where's Lily?"

"Making sure the train doesn't stop!"

"You let her go alone?"

"I didn't let her do anything!" James exclaimed. "It was her idea!"

"They'll be hitting the engine with everything they've got!"

A black figure shot past the window, and James shot a red jet of light at it.

"Get everyone who knows how to cast a decent Stunner manning the windows," James said. "Pass the word down to the other Prefects."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find a broom."

* * *

A jet of light streaked past Sirius and exploded into a shower of sparks.

"That was bloody close!" Marlene exclaimed.

Sirius peered over the top of a window, then fired a series of staccato-like bursts of light at the Death Eaters attacking their carriage.

"Got one," he said grimly.

The train gave a sudden lurch, and began picking up speed as Remus entered the carriage on his hands and knees.

"Nice of you to join us!"

"I saw James – he's finding a broom," Remus said.

"Looks like he found one!" Marlene exclaimed, pointing at a flash of red that rocketed past their carriage window – quickly followed by two black blurs.

Bent low to his Nimbus, James quickly reached the front of the train, where a group of black figures were circling the engine like vultures. James drew his wand from his robes and fired a series of Stunners at the Death Eaters.

A green jet of light flashed past him, and James immediately dropped into a dive and circled around as another pair of Death Eaters gave chase. The midair duel became a deadly game of cat and mouse as James weaved and twisted through the air. The searing heat of an incendiary spell rushed past him. James fought fire with fire, unleashing a tongue of golden flame that struck one of the black figures.

Below him, the Hogwarts Express gave a piercing whistle.

* * *

A flare of brilliant light shot from Sirius' wand and another Death Eater plummeted from the sky.

"Got the prick!" Sirius exclaimed.

Outside, his fellow Marauder was being hard pressed by Death Eaters on all sides. James dodged and weaved through the air, launching into a barrel roll to avoid a barrage of hexes fired his way.

Suddenly, a well-aimed blasting curse shattered the tail end of James' broom, sending him careening towards the ground.

James twisted what was left of his broom towards the train – and jumped.

* * *

Lily threw herself to the ground as several windows shattered, spraying glass through the carriage.

Her ears were ringing, and she could taste blood. She shook her head and blinked as bright spots appeared in her vision.

She couldn't find her wand. She'd had it just moments ago. A sharp pain shot through her head as she clambered through the carriage on her hands and knees.

A purple jet of light streaked into the carriage just inches from her, scattering debris through the carriage, before another explosion rocked the carriage, throwing her flat to the floor again. A gaping hole was all that was left of the compartment where she'd argued with James all of an hour ago.

* * *

James hit the rooftop of a carriage at speed, knocking the wind from him as he tumbled over and over. He reached out in desperation, scrambling to find a handhold. Miraculously, he found one.

A green jet of light streaked past him, and then another.

Shakily, James got to his feet. Somehow, he still had his wand.

Potter luck.

Another jet of light rocketed past him, and James whipped around to see another Death Eater standing on the next carriage.

James assumed a duelling stance and the Death Eater did the same, before launching into a powerful attack that crumbled James' hastily cast shield.

James dodged a jinx and fired a couple of spells back – but he was very clearly outmatched.

On top of the carriage, there was nowhere to hide.

His father's words came to him, unbidden:

 _If the terrain doesn't suit, find new terrain._

He pointed his wand between his feet and blasted a hole in the carriage roof, falling through it as a jet of green light shot overhead.

"Oof!"

He'd landed right on top of Lily!

"Evans!"

"Gerrof me!" she protested.

"Not even a _'Nice of you to drop in'_?" he quipped, rolling off her.

"Now is really not the fucking time!"

The carriage shook with another curse as what was left of the roof splintered into pieces.

Above them, a Death Eater hovered on his broom, his wand trained on them both.

James never hesitated, pushing himself in front of her. A red jet of light slammed into him, flinging his body through the air like a rag doll. He crashed against the wall and slumped to the ground, unmoving.

"James!" she screamed.

The Death Eater pointed his wand at her, a vicious glint in his eye.

And then his head _exploded_.

* * *

Glass crunched underfoot as Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody strode through the ruined carriage, surveying the carnage with his magical eye.

He crouched down and picked up a discarded wand, hidden underneath a seat as another Auror approached him.

"We got three of them alive, Alastor," the Auror reported.

Moody grunted in approval.

"Good. I'll talk with them straight away."

The Aurors made their way to the next carriage.

"You don't want to get them to the Keep?"

"Later," Moody grunted.

"Dumbledore won't be happy when he finds out you've been interrogating suspects on his train."

"Albus isn't here right now."

The Auror shrugged, and was about to reply when he realised James Potter was in the carriage talking quietly to an Auror trainee. The boy had his head wrapped in a large bandage.

"You shouldn't be here, Mr Potter," Moody said. "Join the other students please."

"I was just taking his statement," the trainee said.

"I need the carriage cleared."

"Of course sir," the trainee replied. Alastor Moody was not a man accustomed to waiting. "Come with me, James."

"A moment, Mr Potter."

Moody reached into his robes and drew a wand, turning it handle-first. He offered it to James.

"I assume this belongs to Miss Evans. See to it that she's reunited with her wand."

James took the wand as three figures were roughly hauled into the carriage by more Aurors. Each was bound in chains running from their wrists to their ankles. A black bag was tied tightly around each of their heads.

James followed the trainee into the next carriage and the door clicked shut behind him. A moment later, a muffled howl of pain rang out.

James looked back and swallowed.

"Can you conjure a blanket?" the trainee asked.

"Sure."

"Good. We'll need to hand some out. Can I trust you to get some students to start repairing the minor damage?"

"Yeah, of course."

The trainee nodded at the thick bandaged swathed around his forehead.

"And get yourself seen to by Madam Pomfrey. That was a nasty-looking cut."

* * *

"Lastly, I'd like to thank you both," Dumbledore said. "I understand you led the defence of the train admirably. Fifty points to Gryffindor apiece."

"Thank you sir," Lily said.

After the Welcome Feast, Dumbledore had sat them down and talked through their list of responsibilities and his expectations for their role. But at best he'd seemed distracted and at times he'd trailed off into long periods of silence, his mind clearly on other matters.

"Sorry sir, I had one more question," James asked.

"Ask away."

"Why did you name me Head Boy?"

"I was wondering when you would ask, Mr Potter."

"It's just that – I was never a Prefect, and Flich would say I've broken rules that don't even exist."

Dumbledore peered at him over his spectacles, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Do you agree with Mr Filch's assessment?"

"It's very flattering, but I'd rather not incriminate myself, Professor."

The Headmaster chuckled, then his features took on a more somber expression.

"I appointed you – both of you, in fact – in part because we could use a little more bravery right now."

"That, of course, does not discount the considerable talents of the other Prefects in your year. But the two of you, I think, have the ability to do something rather special."

There was another long pause.

"You are the leaders we need right now," Dumbledore said. "You're talented, well-liked by your peers, and I should hope you will work exceptionally well together."

He looked at them, moving his gaze from James to Lily.

"One pureblood. One Muggleborn. Balance."

James and Lily shared a glance.

"One more thing," Dumbledore added.

"You are, of course, aware of the threat outside these walls. I want you to be mindful of the threat that lies within them."

He passed a hand over his forehead.

"Students can be impressionable. The hearts of the young are easily won. And I fear it is already–"

The Headmaster cut himself off.

"Anyway. The hour grows late. You need not listen to the musings of an old man."

Dumbledore opened a desk draw and pulled out a glass jar filled with sweets.

"But before you go – Sugar Quill?"

* * *

A/N: Cheers for reading – reviews are the best!


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